


True Night

by frostian



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Artistic license taken and abused., Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostian/pseuds/frostian
Summary: Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.
Relationships: JA/JP - Relationship
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Utah  
December 2011**

Jared wondered if he could’ve pulled the trigger. Even now, damned with hindsight, he wasn’t perfectly sure if he was capable of murdering the monster that started all this.

_Bet Jensen could’ve done it. Wouldn’t have even blinked an eye,_ Jared thought bitterly. If anything, the hell they’ve endured taught him that Jensen was a man carved from the hardiest of materials by a masterful hand.

Jared closed his eyes and sighed, _While I’m carved by a kindergartener who’s just chugged down two gallons of Yoo-Hoo._

He wondered when the guilt would really hit, and was annoyed it hadn’t overwhelmed him yet. After all, it was Jensen who’d done all the _hard_ work: the work that made all the difference.

The near-silent whoosh warned Jared that someone had entered the airtight chamber masquerading as his bedroom.

He composed a smile and turned to greet his visitor. “Hi, Doc.”

“Hey,” Doctor Weber said. His black-blue hair still shocking above a face that should be reserved for a rosy, overfed toddler, and not a combat tested fifty-two-year-old veteran out of Fort Bragg. “How are you feeling?”

“Trapped,” Jared answered quickly. “Any new info?”

“Actually, yes,” Weber said. “You and your roommates are cleared to go home by Saturday.”

Even though Jared badly wanted to believe the doctor was telling the truth, he forced himself not to take anything the man said at face value. “Yeah? What happened?”

“Your blood work came back all clear,” Weber explained. He jerked his head towards an armchair and asked, “May I sit down?”

Jared nodded silently.

“The virus has run its course,” Weber said. “The treatments we’ve given have been one hundred percent effective.” Weber broke into a huge grin. “Not every day I can say that.”

Jared sat on his bed, unable to completely process what he’d just heard. “I can’t believe it’s finally over.”

“I think you should see some help as soon as you get home. And I’m not talking just the physical side of your health,” Weber recommended gently.

“A shrink?” Jared was taken back by the idea. “Why?”

“Son, you’re suffering from PTSD whether you know it or not,” Weber said. “The truth is all the patients do. And this shit’s going to stick to you for a long, long time. Best for you to realize that now and deal with it as soon as you can.”

“Before I hurt someone,” Jared concluded Weber’s sentence. “Jesus, I’m not going to go postal and shoot up an airport!”

“No, but you might hurt yourself.”

Jared paled dramatically. “I’m not that fucked up.”

“Not yet,” Weber said. “But I know you’ve been through a lot; more than most combat soldiers I’ve treated. Jared, I hope you know I’m not bullshitting when I say I have never seen what you’ve gone through, and that’s including three tours in Afghanistan.”

Jared noticed the genuine concern in the man’s tone and relaxed a little. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You survived something most human beings can’t even begin to imagine. So it makes sense you’re going to need help processing what you’ve gone through … and what you’ve done.”

Jared didn’t even flinch at that: he’d been thinking about it for the twenty-odd weeks he’d been in this underground ‘multi-facility’ in the ass-end of Utah.

“I can call my mom. She can make arrangements for me. In fact, I think she’ll be delighted.”

Weber stood up and firmly patted Jared’s shoulders with both hands. “That’s good. Do that, please.”

“Seriously, doc: what are my chances of going home?”

“You _are_ going home,” Weber said reassuringly. “Promise me you’ll talk to a professional.”

“I have to; the sanity clause is in the contract along with the morality one.”

“I keep forgetting you’re an actor.”

“Still haven’t seen _Supernatural_?”

“I saw one episode: way too violent for me.”

Jared threw back his head and laughed. “That’s saying something.”

“It sure is,” Weber said. “But some of the medics I know love your show. Especially the car.”

“The Impala. It looks great in the small screen but trust me, it’s not such a babe to drive.”

“Yeah, but it has the best ass on TV.”

Jared stood up and shook Weber’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”

“You’ll see me again, so don’t get teary-eyed yet.”

Jared didn’t want to ask but had no choice. “Did you find out anything about Jensen?”

“I did, actually.” Weber frowned a little and continued, “He was on Plum Island.”

“Isn’t that near Connecticut?”

“Yeah, it is. The government sold the damn thing but repo-ed it when the virus broke out. He was released few weeks ago; one of the first.”

Jared closed his eyes and gave a huge sigh. “Thank God.”

“He seemed to have impressed the medical staff, even the psych boys. And they’re a hard nut to crack.”

“You should’ve seen him when hell broke loose. He took charge and kept everyone sane while the world burned around us.”

“I’m sure there are a lot of grateful people who’ll never forget Jensen or _you_ for that matter. Remember, I’ve read files besides yours.”

Jared gave a wan smile and said nothing, and the following silence forced Weber to depart. He studiously listened to his doctor’s fading footsteps until there were only slight echoes.

Jared closed the door and leaned against it, letting his forehead cool against the seamless metal.

_Plum Island_ , Jared thought. _Hope Jensen had a better view than mine._

With a sarcastic smile, he studied the cinderblock walls and the steel-reinforced door that could probably withstand an RPG attack.

“Fuck it,” Jared whispered to himself. He went to his desk and flipped open the laptop. Though his method of communication was severely limited, he was able to send e-mails. Jared suspected they were edited, but at least he knew he could inform his family and Gen of his discharge.

He fired off the good news to his parents and wife, fully expecting responses from them before dinnertime.

He then wrote another, more lengthy one, to Jensen, not sure if he’ll hear from his friend. Jensen’s answers from their previous correspondences were spotty at best, and there was a distance in Jensen’s words that worried Jared.

Of course, it could be that Jensen was suffering just like he was, and wanted to deal with it privately.

Jared knew his friend well enough. Whenever Jensen faced what looked like an insurmountable problem, he’d try to deal with it on his own. It took Jared an entire year before Jensen would trust him. Even then, Jared would have to pry it out of him.

Jared wondered if that was why Jensen was so supremely self-sufficient.

Jared looked at the laptop screen and braced himself. He typed out the longest e-mail he’d ever written. He was soon tempted to delete the meandering mess but sent it before he could change his mind.

C’mon, Jensen,” Jared whispered. “Give me a signal.”

* * *

  
**Seattle, Washington  
Twenty-Four Weeks Prior**

Dr. Anthony Compton looked around the street with hatred. How much he hated this city, filled with greed and atavistic worship of the Machine. Still, none of his revulsion was reflected on his face as he watched the Undeserved walk about, swilling their foul drinks while talking on their cell phones.

_Pigs, all of them are pigs_. Compton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _They even smell like pigs. Not even worthy of sacrifice._

Compton grimaced as a girl with more piercings than common sense walked by, wafting a heavy, carnal scent that repulsed him.

_Whores, all of them,_ Compton concluded as he watched her promenade down the street before entering Nordstrom.

He looked at the store’s displays and desired nothing. The window dressings were abhorrent, all pointing to mass consumerism that had replaced Faith.

_Belief in the almighty dollar instead of the Righteous God._

Compton decided to step aside the foot traffic in order to attract less attention. There were few if any police officers patrolling around the shopping area during dead of noon, but Compton couldn’t risk being seen by law enforcement.

He leaned against the cold stonewall of Nordstrom and lazily pulled out a small vial. Its contents resembled ground coffee and even smelled like it at introduction.

Without looking down, Compton walked down the street to a spot where the largest crowd had congregated. The vial slipped out of his fingers and cracked open on the sidewalk, but by the time the wind had picked up the contents, Compton was already a block away. He entered Pacific Place to retrieve his car and made sure he exited through the seventh street exit instead of the sixth in order to avoid the contamination now wind-borne.

His jeep plowed through the traffic, pissing off more than few drivers, but Compton didn’t care. He wanted to be far away from downtown as soon as possible.

In spite of the jolting fear that coursed through his veins, Compton also felt elated. He’d finally done it. He had followed through with his promise to God.

_And now the earth shall be cleansed of all evil_ , Compton thought, his ecstasy climaxing much like an orgasm. _All those so-called holy wars, those idiots don’t know what they’re doing. Not when they’re guided by the Devil. But I – I – am one of the True Faithfuls. And God knew it. That was why God spoke to me. Why He gave me the knowledge to create this Flood._

Compton peered out the window and smiled. The sky was cloudy just as the weatherman had predicted, which was another miracle of sorts. But then, it was actually the end result of a miracle: one that Compton ensured at the cost of his marriage and his position at the university.

At first, Compton thought it was an ancient but minor myth created by godless pagans. But then, with his mother’s help he found more material.

So, he decided to take a risk and experiment. The minor success shocked Compton but gave him the fuel to _believe_. It all made sense to him. God had directed him and Tony, ever obedient of his Lord’s wishes, had obeyed. To everyone’s good fortune.

At least for the faithful and the obedient.

After that, he had devoted all his time to creating the perfect Horseman to bring forth the Second Coming. His lab at the university was accommodating at first, but when his output could not explain his working hours, inquiries started flying in. Compton was able to fend off the questions for a year, but then had to quit. He couldn’t risk anyone look too closely at his work.

So, he told his wife he wanted to go into the private sector, and Jane was glad. Private sector meant more money, more free time.

The truth was just the opposite.

Compton held down the job at the small biotech startup without problems, and the lab was sophisticated enough for him to continue his research privately, which took up most of his time. Jane was understanding at first and even excited. But he couldn’t confide in her: the husband wasn’t sure if she was one of the True Faithfuls. She went to service, to bible study, and various church functions, but Compton suspected she was just saying the words and to meet up with other like-minded women in order to gossip.

It was a hard choice for Compton, but when Jane asked for the divorce, he agreed readily. And after a few months, Compton found himself forgetting about Jane and their fifteen-year marriage. He was grateful for that: he needed to focus all his attention on the Horseman.

Compton heard a shrill beep and looked to his left. That was all the warning he had before his Toyota was t-boned by a FedEx truck. Compton heard a sharp snap but couldn’t figure out where the noise originated. He tried to raise his hand but couldn’t make it move.

_I must have a head wound_ , Compton concluded. _It’s going to take a moment for the shock to wear off and for me to get my strength back. That’s why I can’t move my hands._

The driver darted out of the truck, yelling at his cell. Compton tried very hard to listen to what the kid was saying but couldn’t focus. As the edges of his vision began to darken, Compton panicked.

_This can’t be happening! I’m suppose to stay alive! God had chosen me! Me to deliver his Word to the Unfaithful! And watch as these filthy beasts fall under my mighty…_

Paul moaned as he watched the driver’s stare turn soft before glazing over. He didn’t have to check on the old man to know he was dead. The medics arrived few minutes later, and confirmed his worst fears.

As they carted the body away, Paul took a peek into the smashed car. Driven by guilt, the deliveryman wanted something to take to the man’s widow along with his apology. He found a small box filled with empty vials and another box filled with bibles. The vials were pristine but the bibles - all from different printing houses - were battered and well used.

Paul felt tears clog his vision and toddled back to the curb where he sat down.

_Probably some volunteer at a shelter_ Paul wiped tears from his face. _If there’s Heaven, then the poor bastard’s on his way_.

His opinion would have changed drastically if he had taken a harder look at the stack of Bibles. But he did not. And neither did the police. They had no need to: using the dead man’s wallet they were able to file the paperwork without doing further research. And when no one came to claim the wrecked car or its bloody contents, they were summarily disposed of.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

Jared valiantly tried to school his face but completely failed as Jensen finished his explanation. He managed to let his weary friend sit down before blurting out, “What? When did this happen?”

“It was brewing for some time,” Jensen answered reluctantly, his focus completely allocated to his worn boots and not at his astonished co-star. “Look, Danni and I are in complete agreement about this: we’re not going to make it.”

“So … so, you’re just getting divorced? Just like that?” Jared collapsed into a sofa. “But, I mean, how about therapy? Or maybe a trial separation?”

Jensen shook his head. “No, it’s not going to work. And we don’t want to waste time on something that’s useless.”

“Man, I am so damn sorry,” Jared said. “I had no idea!”

“We wanted to keep it private, especially for our parents. The last thing Danni and I need is to have our problems splashed all over the front page of some cheap bullshit rag. Our families deserve better than that.”

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Jared asked, realizing Jensen was going to be alone for their upcoming two-week break from filming. “Are you going to Texas?”

“No,” Jensen answered decisively. “I think I’ll just hang around and relax. Do some work, maybe put in the patio I’ve been talking about.”

“Like hell you are,” Jared said. “You’re coming to Seattle.”

Jensen blinked at him. “Why? Isn’t Gen meeting you there?”

Jared shook his head. “No, she’s filming a pilot for Fox. She’s going to be in Philadelphia for the entire month. We thought she could make it but the scheduling went to hell two days ago. The weather’s playing havoc over there.”

“Sorry to hear that. But dude, I don’t have any desire to stay in the honeymoon suite with you.”

“Fuck off,” Jared said, grinning. “I’m talking about serious sightseeing. And maybe couple of Mariners’ games.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Oh, that ought to be a joy.”

“Hey, if an entire city could take that much pain for years, we can take it for a game.” Jared paused then added, “Besides, Ichiro is cool. You got to give them that much.”

“Yeah, okay, he’s good.”

“And sushi. Seattle has some of the best sushi in the country.”

“Better than LA?” Jensen asked.

“That’s the rumor,” Jared answered. “Seriously, we could do anything or nothing; whatever you feel like.”

Jensen smiled; though it was feeble Jared could see the genuine gratitude behind it. “Okay, thanks.”

“Cool. I’ll go cancel the honeymoon suite and see about separate rooms.”

Jensen’s grin turned into laughter. “Yeah, you should do that. Wouldn’t want to give our fans heart attacks.”

“Or make their dirty little wishes come true!” Jared piped up. “Man, some of them are … well, perverts!”

“We’re all perverts. They’re honest about it, at least.”

Jared looked surprised by Jensen’s attitude. “They don’t freak you out a little?”

“I work in Hollywood, remember? There are freaks then there are _freaks_.”

Jared winced, remembering some of those _freaks_ and his dealings with them. “Yeah, okay.”

“When should I come by?”

“Tomorrow, around nine in the morning?” Jared focused on his schedule for a moment. “I was planning to drive down.”

“Not a problem,” Jensen said with visible relief. “I hate dealing with security and shit.”

Jared remembered Jensen’s unabashed annoyance whenever they had to deal with TSA or any airport security for that matter. And the inevitable dour looks on the officials’ faces after dealing with Jensen’s brusque demeanor.

“Hence my offer to drive down there,” Jared said drily. “I don’t know how you haven’t gotten arrested for being such a dick.”

Jensen shrugged. “Ain’t no law against being an asshole. Besides, they’re not exactly the friendliest bunch either.”

Jared remembered some of the workers and countered, “Don’t know about that. Not all of them are bad.”

“Well, you’re the type to attract the funky bunch. Me? I attract the assholes.”

Jared knew Jensen was speaking the brutal truth so refrained from teasing him any further. Instead, he patted his friend on the shoulder and left. As soon as he reached his trailer, Jared called the Four Seasons and changed his reservations. He made sure Jensen’s room had one of the best views of the Sound, not the city. His friend was the type to appreciate such things.

Jared, on the other hand, didn’t much care. As long as the room service was 24/7 and the food was good – he was a happy camper. He then fired up his laptop and began browsing various websites. He was serious about the Mariners game but Jared knew that he’d have to find something cool to balance out the suck that would invariably come with Seattle’s home team, Ichiro or not.

Jared thought a whale watch would be interesting. Even though they were in Vancouver, their work schedule made it next to impossible for either of them to take serious downtime and enjoy what the city could offer.

Jared ticked off whale watching, walking around the waterfront or, in his case, eating a wide path through the waterfront, and if time allowed it: visiting Mount Rainier.

 _Looks so beautiful_ , Jared thought as he scanned the pictures of the majestic peak. _Better buy a satellite phone in Seattle, just in case._

In fact, Jared decided that he should take camping gear, which was sitting in the hallway closet, pristine and completely unused. He texted Jensen to do the same and got a smartass answer:

**You said this was a VACATION.**

Jared didn’t bother to reply: he knew when to let Jensen have the last word. He pawed through the gear and updated the emergency kit with more efficient and stronger medicines.

This was one of his better decisions. Going to Seattle would be his worst.

* * *

  
Jared watched Jensen relax as they cleared the border checkpoint. Renting a convertible seemed like such a douchebag of an idea, but the beautiful weather made Jared glad that he did.

“This is great,” Jensen shouted, startling his friend. Jared thought Jensen had fallen asleep.

“It’s gorgeous!” Jared agreed readily.

“Where are the children?” Jensen asked.

Jared grinned, thinking about his dogs. “They’re with their babysitter.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring them!”

Jared shrugged. “They won’t do so well clammed up in a hotel room.”

Jensen gave a nod of agreement. He’d seen the destruction the two mutts caused whenever they lost it.

“Besides, Jenny promised she’d take them hiking.”

Jensen pulled down his sunglasses and peered at Jared. “She’s going to kill them!”

Jared grinned. Jenny’s ferocious love of nature was well known, and though Jared’s dogs were frisky, they would have some time keeping up with the hair and makeup artist.

“She loves them!” he said. “Wouldn’t do anything to hurt my babies.”

“Yeah, okay!” Jensen paused then added, “But they’re going to eat her out of house and home when they get back!”

Jared nodded. “I gave her extra bag of food, just in case.”

Jensen seemed satisfied with that and pulled up his glasses until they perched firmly on his nose. Jared watched him fall asleep and felt absurdly flattered. Jensen rarely rested easy unless he felt absolutely comfortable; the major reason why he was so addicted to caffeine. So, Jared knew to take it as a compliment and not as an insult whenever Jensen dozed off in his presence.

The drive itself was uneventful, and the fair weather held up right until they pulled into Seattle. Weak cloud cover or not, the sun’s power had completely faded and there was a definite chill in the air.

“Hey, Rip Van Winkle,” Jared said, elbowing his friend. “Wake up. We’re here!”

Jensen groaned and opened his eyes. Then straightened up when he realized they were being watched by an entire group of tourists standing nearby.

“Shit,” he muttered softly.

They grabbed their bags as quickly as possible and scooted into the hotel and relative safety, not looking back to see the valet study the convertible with open distaste.

“That was awkward,” Jensen said.

“Did you see that girl taking our pictures?” Jared chuckled. “What are the odds we won’t be on Twitter in oh … ten minutes?”

“That’s a fixed bet if there ever was one.”

“So, do we go incognito or just ignore the hordes of screaming fans that’ll show up?”

“I don’t know about you, but the moment I see a screaming horde of anything I’m planning to haul ass. And if you can’t keep up: tough titty said the kitty.”

Jared gave a swift jab in the ribs and then stood back as Jensen gave a light swing to his stomach.

Jared unceremoniously dumped his bags on the bed as soon as he entered his room. He turned on the television and flipped through the channels. A news report caught his attention and he watched for a while.

“Shit,” he hissed out. “That’s ugly.”

There was a knock on the door before Jensen keyed in. They had access to each other’s room, always did ‘just in case’. Though they never did fully discuss what ‘just in case’ could actually be.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked when he saw the frown on Jared’s face.

“Nasty bug going around; people are being hospitalized.”

“Yeah, I read about that this morning,” Jensen said. “Honestly, I don’t know why we bother getting annual flu shots when shit like that comes up on a daily basis.”

Jared turned off the television and said, “Let’s get something to eat.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They strolled down the waterfront and stumbled over a tavern that had less kitsch and more authenticity than the other restaurants on the same block.

The beer was fine, and the smells wafting out of the kitchen was finer.

“Looks safe enough to eat,” Jared said, eyeing the casual clientele: all of who were too busy with their food to notice the Hollywood coterie suddenly amid them. The same couldn’t be said for the staff as the appetizers arrived only minutes after ordering along with their drinks.

After few bites Jared feel his choice of restaurant was right on target.

“Oh man,” Jensen said after taking a bite out of his crab cakes, “okay, this was a good idea.”

Jared managed a grin through his mouthful. “Yeah, I…”

Whatever enjoyment they could’ve had was cut short when one of their fellow diners went into a coughing fit. His female companion watched, unmoving as shock had paralyzed her.

Jensen observed the distressed couple, concern radiating from his tense frame as the man turn purple then a sickly sheen of grey due to lack of oxygen. When he collapsed from his chair, Jensen bolted out of his. The female companion leaned over, trying to get her date to his feet.

“Don’t do that,” Jensen said. “We have to clear his airway first. Call emergency now!”

The pale woman nodded and called 911 from her cell. The hostess ran over to them and immediately began emptying out the food from the unconscious man’s mouth. Jensen stepped aside, frowning but doing nothing else. Jared realized the hostess was more than capable and remained at his table.

The ambulance came in record time and hauled away the man along with his date.

“Jesus,” Jensen whispered when he sat back into his chair. “That’s serious.”

“Was he choking?” Jared asked quietly.

“No, looks like he had a coughing fit and then maybe his asthma kicked in.”

“That’s pretty scary,” Jared commented. “I wonder if he had some food allergy. Maybe it’s that flu that’s going around.”

“If that’s the flu then I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy,” Jensen said. “I’m starting to wonder if I should’ve taken my boosters.”

Jared paused, his fork hovering in mid-air. “You didn’t get your follow-ups?”

Jensen shook his head. “No, didn’t have time.”

“Dude, that’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back.” Jared stressed his point by pointing his fork at Jensen’s direction. “We can’t have Dean down for the count.”

“Loud and clear,” Jensen said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “Maybe we should head back as soon as we’re done here.”

Jared took a glance at the empty table, plates still present. “Yeah, maybe we should.”

* * *

  
Jared groggily studied the ceiling and decided he should’ve slept a little longer. He then looked at the clock and realized that he should’ve actually woken up hours before.

“Oh shit.” He sat up and reached for his cell.

“Hello?” Jensen muttered.

“Sorry, I overslept.”

“And how is that a problem for me?” Jensen asked. “What time is it anyway?”

“Almost one,” Jared said, scrambling out of his bed. He opened the shades and peered outside.

“Give me twenty.”

“Okay.” Jared jumped into the shower and in ten minutes he was ready.

He looked out the windows again and this time took more time to examine the streets. There was no traffic and only few pedestrians scrambling towards their destinations. Jared then looked at the dark clouds threatening with imminent rain and gave a low whistle.

_Maybe we can still go whale watching. Little rain shouldn’t bother those giants!_

Jared heard Jensen key in and turned to say, “Bobby totally lied. Seattle’s weather sucks even during summertime.”

“Turn on the television,” Jensen said. “I just got a call from Danni.”

Jared wanted to ask why but instead chose to do just that. He didn’t even have to bother channel surfing. The first station had the cause of Jensen and Danni’s worry.

“Again, the CDC has taken jurisdiction and a source within Overlake has informed us that the military is on its way to take over what looks like a situation quickly spiraling out of control.

“This is Jenny Lee, live from Overlake.”

“What the fuck is happening?” Jared asked as soon as a commercial for Crest toothpaste came on.

“Every hospital in the city’s been overrun by the flu,” Jensen said. “The CDC came in this morning and the reporter’s right: Danni told me the Army’s going to be moving in.”

“Danni?”

“Yeah, she’s got a fanboard dedicated to her and a lot of the members are from the military,” Jensen explained. “She said someone sent her a PM about it.”

“We’re getting out of here. Now.”

“No, we can’t,” Jensen said tersely.

“Why not?”

“The roads are already blocked by the State police,” Jensen said. “I checked.”

“Wait a minute: are we in a quarantine zone?”

Jensen sat down. “They’re not saying as much but all flights in and out of SeaTac have been cancelled or rerouted.”

Jared suddenly felt lightheaded and began breathing heavily. “Oh shit, oh shit.”

“We should stay put, figure out what to do. Maybe they’ll set up an outpost – do some tests, so people can leave if they’re not sick.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Jared said. He then noticed the distant look on Jensen’s face. “But you have a backup plan?”

“Yeah, get your camping gear ready, just in case.”

Jared felt a frisson of fear but forced himself to move. After he pulled everything out of the closet, he asked, “What are you planning?”

“I don’t know but if things get hairy, we might need the gear.”

“Dude, we’re not Sam and Dean,” Jared said hoarsely.

“Call Gen. See if she knows anything. Your brother too.” Jensen said, ignoring Jared’s statement. “I’ll call around. See if anyone knows more than what the news channels are reporting.”

Jared managed to contact everyone, and they all knew about the situation in Seattle.

“Are you serious?” Gen nearly shouted. “You’re in Seattle?!”

“Calm down, I’m sure it’ll pass.” Jared took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you could find out anything.”

“All right,” Gen said, her voice strained with worry. “I know someone who knows someone. You know the drill.”

“Love you, babe.”

“Love you too. Please take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.”

Jared’s call ended just in time to hear the tail end of Jensen’s.

“Thanks.” Jensen took a deep breath, “So, we’re basically boxed in?”

Whatever was the answer darkened Jensen’s worried face. “All right,” Jensen said. “So … so we’re going to have to sit tight for now.”

Jared closed his eyes and for a moment felt a wave of nausea as he digested what was not being said to him. He waited patiently while Jensen made two more calls, each sounding direr than the previous one.

“How screwed are we?” he finally asked.

“We’re pretty much pinned down for now,” Jensen said.

“What’s next?”

“We wait. How about you? Waiting for phone calls?”

“Yeah,” Jared answered. “Jeff’s going to contact his friends from med school and see if they know anything.”

“Okay, then,” Jensen looked around the room. “How is it that yours is twice as big as mine?”

Jared spread his arms. “Dude, I’m huge. You, on the other hand, are pint-sized. You’re practically an Ewok!”

Jensen’s eyes crinkled at the corners and the two men fell into easy banter on an old topic: whether Jared was a mutant or Jensen was indeed an Ewok.

* * *

  
Jared looked down at the street and noticed there were more people walking about.

“You want to take a break?” he asked.

Jensen tossed aside the newspaper he’d been reading for the last hour and half. “Thought you’d never ask. I’m going crazy in here.”

Jared grabbed his jacket and followed Jensen who fairly bolted out of the hotel room. They were greeted with thunderous roar the moment they exited the hotel. Jared looked up and winced as weak sunlight blinded him for a second.

“Are those Blackhawks?” Jensen asked.

Jared turned to look at him and sighed. Jensen had the foresight to wear shades.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “but sure sounded like big motherfuckers.”

“That they are,” Jensen said as he traced the copters tearing through the sky. “I guess the military’s here.”

“Hopefully they could help sort out this mess,” Jared said. He then took a deep breath of the breezy salty air and sighed. “Oh man, that feels good.”

“Yeah, we really need this.” Jensen pointed to a staircase to the left and said, “Want to take a walk by the water?”

“Sounds good,” Jared said and sprinted towards the steps.

At the bottom of the stairs Jared slowed down his pace so Jensen could catch up. The boardwalk was pretty empty but there were few families about, also enjoying the warm weather. They waved to each other: a silent, tactical greeting of people who knew how to enjoy their solitariness.

Jensen spotted a golden retriever wandering by itself and said, “I think someone lost his mutt.”

Jared frowned. He gave a whistle, which attracted the dog’s attention. It gave a friendly grin and trotted over.

Jared gave it a big hug and scratched its chin. “Hey, what are you doing here all by yourself?”

The dog’s grin only grew bigger.

“Does it have a tag?”

“Yeah,” Jared said, checking its collar. “Got a number. I bet the owner’s going crazy.”

Jensen dialed it only to have voice mail pick up the call. “Hi, this is … well, we just found your dog. Call me back at this number when you get a chance.”

Jared stood up, his grasp firmly on the dog’s collar. “What should we do?”

“Why don’t we finish…”

The dog stiffened and turned around, forcing Jared to face the same way. But if there was anything threatening Jared didn’t see it. What he did see was a family surrounding a woman, probably the mother. She was bent in half, coughing violently.

There were two children, all trying to comfort her with the father frantically calling on his cell.

The scene was so reminiscent of what happened the night before that Jared’s attention was diverted away from the dog. So, he nearly lost his hold on the stray when it lunged forward.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, as the golden retriever bared its teeth and went into a furious barking fit.

Jensen took off his belt and tried to loop it around the dog collar in order to hold onto the enraged animal. However, any attention they paid to the dog was wiped away when children’s screams suddenly rent the air.

Jared looked up to see something his mind couldn’t process immediately. At first he thought the mother was leaning on her son, trying to get control of herself. But that didn’t make sense because the father was trying to peel her off the boy while the daughter was standing few feet away, her fingers digging painful grooves into her cheeks while she screamed.

“Oh my God,” Jensen said weakly.

Jared felt all sensation leave his limbs. Sensing the slack, the dog lunged forward, still barking as if it had seen something particularly threatening to its canine nature.

Jensen chased the dog and Jared followed, wondering what he was going to do when he got there. He had no idea if he could even catch up, but the last thing Jared wanted to see was the animal attack the children.

He was only ten feet away when the family tableau suddenly snapped into focus. The mother wasn’t leaning on her son: she was mauling him. The father was still frantically trying to get her off the little boy but had no luck.

Jared felt Jensen rush by him and watched as his friend tackle the family, knocking them all to the ground.

It was enough to jar the woman loose. And before Jared could do anything the dog leapt, landing on the woman’s chest. It pulled back its lips before burying its teeth into her throat. The father grabbed his son and scuttled away from the bloodbath.

“Jeremy!” he screamed, shaking his son’s body.

The boy was completely unresponsive, and the wound in his throat steadily pumped out deep crimson blood.

The father kept screaming his son’s name, as if the sound of his voice would be enough to wake the unconscious child.

Jensen scrambled over to them. “Put your hand on the wound. Keep the pressure.”

The father nodded frantically and did what he was told. Jared took hold of the dog’s collar and began pulling it off the woman. He took care not to see her face as he finally yanked the dog back few feet, using the impromptu leash Jensen had crafted from his belt.

The ambulance came but strangely without any sirens. And there was only one medic, looking like he hadn’t seen the right side of a bed since the first Bush administration.

Tight-lipped and pale, the EMT opened his kits and began unpacking various medical paraphernalia.

“It was Amy, my wife,” the father whispered. “She … she … suddenly went rabid and attacked Jeremy.”

“Whose blood is that?” the medic asked, eyeing both the father and Jensen.

“I haven’t a fucking clue,” Jensen said. “I was…”

The dog exploded out of Jared’s hold but it didn’t attack anyone. Instead, it splayed its front legs and shook his head, blood and saliva flying from its muzzle.

“Oh fuck…” Jared said weakly.

The dog raised its head, its eyes soulful and sad above its bloodied muzzle.

“Boy? You okay?” Jared whispered, offering a cautious hand towards the animal.

The creature gave a mournful howl then, without hesitation, it leaped off the pier and into the freezing water.

“Fuck!” Jared shouted and leaned over the barricade in time to see the golden retriever swim powerfully out to sea.

Jensen joined him. “What in hell is happening?” he whispered, eyes wide with confusion and horror.

Jared shook his head, unable to voice any thought. The golden head bobbed on the blue surface but then a particularly tall wave took it. After that, Jared didn’t see the dog again.

“We have to get your son to the hospital,” the medic said. “I’ve done all I can to stabilize him. The same goes for your wife.”

The family piled into the ambulance. The medic looked at Jared and Jensen and said, “You have to come too. We have to check you guys out. Just in case.”

“Okay,” Jensen said weakly.

The father peeked out of the ambulance and tossed a set of car keys at them. He pointed to a silver-blue Audi parked nearby and said, “That’s my car. Use it.” He took a deep breath and added, “Thank you.”

“We’re going to Swedish,” the medic explained. “Follow me.”

Jared took the keys and drove while Jensen shivered uncontrollably in the passenger seat.

“You going into shock?” Jared asked, dreading the answer.

“Yeah … but not because I was attacked. I’m not physically hurt. It’s just that I can’t … I don’t know what happened back there.”

“That makes two of us,” Jared said. He watched the ambulance silently plow through the near-empty roads. “Why the hell isn’t he using the sirens?”

“I was wondering about that too,” Jensen said. “Maybe his is broken?”

Jared shook his head. “No, the emergency buses get tested regularly. They’re banned from the roads if their sirens don’t work.”

Jensen pointed to his left and said, “There it is.”

Jared watched the ambulance make a sharp turn towards the hospital and signaled to do the same.

They were pulling up to an empty parking space near the emergency entrance when an explosion rocked the air. Jensen looked up to see the fourth floor engulfed in flames.

“Oh my God,” Jared said weakly, unable to move from his seat.

“What…” Jensen started. Then his attention was drawn to the entrance closest to the parking lot. There was a cascade of people rushing towards the entrances. In a second, some were crushed against the automatic doors by the waves of people behind them.

Jensen wordlessly popped out of the car and ran towards the blocked entrances. Jared was only a step behind.

Somehow the people being crushed still managed to struggle though their movements were getting weaker by the moment. Jensen looked around and saw a planter. In spite of its weight he picked it up and used it to bash open the sliding doors.

Jared looked at the windows to the left and saw people struggling. He was running towards them when he realized that they weren’t fighting to get out. They were wrestling with what looked like patients.

Jared saw a female patient, half the size of the security guard she was wildly beating to death with a floor lamp. Jared pried a window open and shouted,

“Hey! You! Stop! Stop! What the…” his voice died when he got a good look at her face.

 _She looks like death_ , Jared concluded as his eyes danced over the gaunt face, the receding hairline, and the streams of dangling spit and snot from the mouth and nose.

He couldn’t believe how fast she was. With a feral scream, the woman lunged for him. Out of reflex Jared leapt back, slamming the window closed. Frustrated that her prey was suddenly gone, she returned to the unconscious guard and began mauling with her fingers and teeth.

Jared watched in horror, unable to move. When a hand landed on his shoulder, Jared screamed and jumped.

“We have to go!” Jensen shouted, pointing at the glass doors with the planter embedded in it. It Jared wondered why they didn’t shatter then realized the emergency doors had to be strong enough to withstand car impacts.

He then saw something else.

The trapped people were no longer pinned against the door. They were struggling with each other, just like the security guard and his murderer.

“Jensen?” Jared managed to squeak out through his fear. “What’s…”

Jensen never answered. He grabbed Jared and half-dragged him back to the Audi. Suddenly they were showered with rain of broken glass. Jared didn’t want to see but the falling debris made that impossible. He looked up just in time to see four people tumble out of the shattered windows on the fifth floor.

Jared began running and soon outdistanced Jensen. As soon as they scrambled into the car, Jensen gunned the engine and ripped through the parking lot. He didn’t even use the paved exit. Instead, he went through the grass divider and hit the road. As they drove away, Jared heard the screams rise higher and higher. He looked behind them and felt his bladder give.

People were now pouring out of the hospital through all entrances. He spotted sane people by the terror and confusion on their faces even as they tried to outpace their pursuers who Jared recognized as patients because of their pajamas, and robes flapping around their thighs like capes.

 _How can they run so fast?_ Jared wondered as he watched two extremely emaciated women run down a man no older than himself.

“We’re getting out of here,” Jensen said.

“How?” Jared asked; his attention still riveted to the massacre unfolding behind them.

“We’re not going to get our bags, just the camping gear,” Jensen said, rushing his words as fast as he was pushing the car, “and walk.”

“Walk?”

“There’s no fucking way the military doesn’t know what’s happening. Why did the ambulance not use the sirens? Because it attracts attention: attention they didn’t want.”

“But why didn’t they say anything? Warn people?”

“Because it probably just happened, but I’d bet my life that they knew something was completely fucked since they got here.”

Jensen gunned through three red lights, which didn’t matter since there weren’t any cars on the road. Jared took time to pay attention to the surroundings and saw no one. Unlike earlier, when there were few people still walking about, the entire city now seemed like some ghostly backdrop in a horror videogame.

“What’s going on?” Jared asked.

“Something with the flu, maybe it’s a virus that goes to the brain and fucks you up.”

“This isn’t some episode from the show,” Jared countered, still frantically looking for people if only to warn them to get off the street.

“Whatever it is, we’ve got to get out of here,” Jensen said. “Then figure out what to do.”

“Do what?”

“See if there's a military blockade and if we can go around it. But either way, we have to be pretty fucking far from Seattle as soon as possible.”

“Why?” Jared asked tersely, all the while suspecting the answer.

“Because their idea of control might mean leaving nothing alive in Seattle.”

Jared closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow deep breaths in order not to hyperventilate.

The doors to the Four Seasons were open but there were no polite doormen to greet them. And the lobby was bereft of personnel too. When they’d left only an hour before, there were two women manning the check-in desk and a concierge hovering nearby.

They took the elevator upstairs to their rooms, ignoring the few doors that cracked open to reveal scared faces.

The moment Jensen entered his room, he grabbed his camping gear and nothing else. They rushed to Jared’s and did the same. Before leaving Jared peeked out the window and noted there weren’t any people on the streets.

He spotted movement. “Look!” he shouted.

A small group of people was rushing towards the pier closest to the hotel.

“What are they doing?” Jared looked closer until his face was pressed against the window.

“They’re trying to get out of the city,” Jensen said. “Wait a minute, Seattle has a ferry system, right?”

“Extensive one,” Jared answered. “They’ve got a cluster of islands nearby.”

“An island … that’s perfect.”

“Isolated,” Jared whispered, “Holy shit, okay, so we take a ferry then?”

“Let’s go!”

The two men ran to the elevators only to find they were no longer working. This didn’t surprise either of them. They took the stairs at top speed and didn’t slow down when they hit the ground floor. In fact, they were at full sprint by the time they got to the stairs leading to the piers.

Jared pointed at two groups of people, all heading the same direction.

Jensen didn’t need to be told twice. The two men joined the mass swarming towards a ferry. Once they got on the boat, they discovered people stacked like firewood in the car hull. Terrified that Jensen could be carried away like leaves in a riptide, Jared used all his strength to hold onto him as they were brutally shoved about.

Jensen held onto Jared just as tightly and allowed himself to be maneuvered by his bigger friend until they were at the back of the ferry.

After spotting a man who was frantically scrolling down his iPhone, Jared patted his pockets only to realize that he’d left his back at the hotel. Starving for information, he decided to start up a conversation with the stranger.

“What’s happening?” Jared asked, brusquely pushing away someone who’d slammed against his back.

“Every news channel’s gone,” the guy responded. “But UW’s radio station is still on full blast. I got the feeling the military forgot to shut them down when they put the umbrella over us.”

“What are they saying?”

“To get the hell out of the city any which way you can,” the man answered in a faint voice, wiping the sweat off his face with the cuff of his jacket. “And it’s not because the military’s involved.”

“Why then?” Jensen asked.

“There have been reports of attacks, bad ones. It looks like there are clusters of … killers? The reports are fuzzy on that, but it looks like people have gone crazy: like a pack of hyenas with rabies.”

“That we’ve seen,” Jensen said. “It really does look like they got the worst case of rabies.”

“That’s what the disk jockey said too.” The man paused for a moment and introduced himself. “Name’s Mike Lenehan. I’m from Kirkland. Down here for work when all hell broke loose.”

“Does your family know what’s going on?”

Mike gave a terse nod. “Managed to get a call out before everything was shut down. Told my wife what’s been happening and then told her to take the family to a cabin I inherited from my uncle. I go hunting there whenever I can, so it’s stocked pretty well.”

“You are a smart man,” Jared said.

“Where’s this ferry heading?” Jensen asked.

“Santos Island, just south of Bainbridge.” Mike took a deep breath. “They figure there aren’t as many people there like Bainbridge so less chance of hell breaking loose.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Jensen said before visibly relaxing. “How long’s the trip?”

Mike gave a shrug as a reply.

The boat churned out of the dock without warning, sending people sprawling as they lost footing. Jared heard screams and thought they were from the passengers taken unaware by the sudden departure.

He was mistaken.

When Jared craned his head to the left, he was able to see out of a port window and the flock of people arriving at the now-empty dock. Behind them, Jared saw something that made him want to stop the ferry: Runners. But Jared suspected these weren’t people out for a jog or to catch a ferry ride. He looked away, eyes squeezed tightly shut. But there was nothing to stop him from listening to the shouts of dismay spike into one of fear and pain.

And he kept his eyes tightly shut until he couldn’t hear anymore.

He felt someone squeeze his arm and knew it was Jensen.

“I heard it too,” Jensen said hoarsely.

“Jesus Christ,” Jared whispered. “What _is_ the government doing?”

“Probably trying to figure out a way to stop this from spreading,” Mike answered, his shoulders hunched in a protective gesture. “Containment is the military’s problem.”

“How’d you know that?” Jared asked.

“Um … two dozen horror movies.” Mike answered then gave a chagrined smile and said nothing for the rest of the trip. Instead, he paid all his attention to his iPhone, obviously downloading all the information he could while it was still possible.

The ferry gave a roar, announcing their approaching destination.

Jensen looked out and said, “I see Santos.”

The murmurs of relief from the passengers were suddenly cut off by mechanical screams that made Jared cover his ears. He looked up and saw a contrail in the wet sky.

“Jets!” he said as he pointed to one on a solo flight.

Jensen paled and said, “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Jared whirled around, expecting to hear more screams.

“I think…”

A plume of water rocked the ferry dangerously to port, making people crash into each other like marbles.

“What’s going on?!” Mike cried helplessly as he struggled to stay on his feet.

“They’re forcing the ferry to turn back!” Jensen cried out.

“Or what?! They can’t possibly shoot a boat full of people!” Jared said, eyes wide with horror.

“They can and they will,” Mike said grimly.

“We’ve got to get off,” Jensen said. “We need a lifeboat, now!”

Jared used his height and spotted the crates where they were stored. But there were too many people jammed into the hull for them to actually make their way to the lifeboats.

The second explosion was close enough for Jared to be sprayed with icy seawater. He cried out in shock and stumbled backwards. The only reason he didn’t fall was because Jensen grabbed him and held him up.

Then Jared saw something from the other end of the boat that looked so fake, he couldn’t believe what it was.

“Fire!” a woman screamed.

The crowd rushed towards the other end of the ferry, where Jensen and Jared were standing.

Jensen didn’t hesitate. He tightened his hold on Jared and both jumped over the chain links that had corralled them in. Jared braced himself for the freezing impact, but still lost his breath when he hit the water.

He looked up and saw a hail of human beings as the crowd began jumping out of the ferry. He felt a tug and spotted Jensen only a foot away.

“Swim!” Jensen shouted after doffing his bag.

After a ferocious struggle Jared managed to lose his. Mercifully, the ferry had been plowing at top speed because Santos was closer than he’d thought. The two men began swimming, knowing the cold could leach them of strength in matter of minutes if not seconds.

It was only when they got closer that they realized there were even greater dangers than a burning ferry. The coast they were aiming for wasn’t a sandy beach and there were rocky outcroppings that acted like a breaker between the land and the ocean. Jared wanted to swim parallel to the shore but the current so strong that they had no chance of changing their direction.

The waves that washed them towards Santos were so powerful Jared was terrified he’d be dashed into pieces. When he was close enough, Jared managed to grab onto the rock that was the closest and clung onto it with one arm while he tried to reach Jensen who was being dragged away. He heard Jensen’s cry of pain and for a moment let go of his hold on the rock in order to grab him. After successfully netting his friend, Jared wrapped himself around the rock, tucking Jensen in between his body and the rock.

The following waves numbed his back and his head, and Jared struggled to keep himself awake as the freezing assault continued. The moment that the battering slowed down, he looked around. And wished his didn’t.

The outcroppings were covered with debris from the ferry. And the ferry itself was on fire though still floating.

Fear needs no consensus to have power, but when it does, it has the might of a cyclone. And that was what Jared witnessed in horror when he realized that people were still on the boat.

“Jump!” he shouted heedlessly. “Jump, you dumb fucks!!”

But his words were swallowed by the waves and the ferocious wind. So, all he could do was watch people run about the burning ferry unable or unwilling to leave because of their fear of water. Some, finally driven by madness, jumped into the cold water only to be swallowed by the waves within seconds.

Jared closed his eyes and looked down to see Jensen’s eyes closed. “Wake up!” he yelled and jarred Jensen awake.

Jensen winced and said, “Oh man, my head.”

“You took a hit,” Jared said. “Look, we have to make it to the other side. The water is calmer there!”

Jensen gave a weak nod, worrying Jared. “Let’s get moving!”

Jared didn’t mention the carnage behind them as they slowly made their way around the rocks, clinging with all their strength as the waves battered them.

The water was still freezing but a great deal calmer when they finally faced the shore.

The two didn’t hesitate and began swimming with what little strength they had left. By the time they made it to the beach they were exhausted, but both men knew that they had to warm themselves up or succumb to hypothermia in spite of the balmy July weather.

They both took off their jackets and shirts, before looking around to make fire. Jared found dry brush and Jensen managed to find enough firewood. With trembling hands he dug into his jacket to find the silver lighter. Jared gratefully remembered Danni’s comment when she gave it to Jensen for his thirtieth birthday.

“I’m not condoning your nasty habit, but if you must do it, at least do it in style.”

A decent bonfire was quickly made, but they didn’t enjoy it for long. As soon as they felt warmth in their legs, Jared and Jensen began scouring the beach for survivors.

Unfortunately all they stumbled on were debris and bodies. It wasn’t until Jared discovered a little girl no older three that he broke down.

Jared sat on his haunches and wept. After he got control of himself, he found something to cover the pathetically small body before placing her out of the rising tide’s greedy reach.

He looked around for Jensen and found him dragging what looked like corpses onto the beach. Then, one of the corpses moved.

“Are they alive?” Jared yelled as he ran towards them.

Jensen nodded.

Jared looked at the survivors: a man and a teenage boy. Both were blinking and acting as if they were drunk.

Jared didn’t hesitate: he hauled both of them up to their feet and half-dragged them to the bonfire. To his great relief, he saw others stagger out of the water, all drawn to the flames. Jared placed his charges close to the heat and began stripping them of their soggy clothes.

The boy struggled weakly but then relaxed when warmth crawled into his shivering muscles. Jensen led few others to their makeshift site, holding one up while leading two with coaxing words and brute force.

Then, there was a scream.

Jared looked up and spotted two women running towards them, and right behind a man catching up to them in spite of a pronounced limp and one arm flapping uselessly behind him.

“Holy shit,” Jared whispered. “Is that Mike?”

Jensen stood up. “Yeah, it is.”

Without explanation, he took a branch out of the fire, half of it burning bright. As soon as his grip was firm enough, Jensen rushed towards the women who stepped aside at the last moment. The branch hit Mike on the side of the head with a meaty, wet thud. He fell to his knees, and for a moment looked like he was going to collapse.

Instead, Mike got up.

Jensen brought the branch over his head and brought it down. The blazing end made a crackling noise even before impact; the heavy sound that resulted as loud as a fighter jet taking off.

Mike collapsed and this time he did not get up: a terrifying Lazarus finally laid to rest.

Jared embraced the women and held them as they broke into tears.

“Thank you!” the younger one said. “I didn’t think we’d make it. Then when … he began chasing us, we thought we were dead.”

The older one managed to gather herself more quickly. “Name’s Jackie, and this is Meghan. We met in the ferry and decided to stick together.”

Jensen looked at Jared, his eyes wide with panic. “Did Mike show any symptoms that he was sick? Any at all?”

Jared felt colder than ever. “No, none.”

“But he had to have been, right? I mean if the flu virus theory’s true.”

Meghan shook her head. “No, not really.”

Meghan’s answer attracted the attention of everyone around the bonfire.

“They’re calling it a flu virus,” Meghan explained between hiccups, “but it doesn’t manifest itself like a normal flu.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jackie asked.

“It’s something I read on the internet.”

“Oh yeah, and that guarantees that it be true,” said the man that Jensen had pulled out from the water.

“I think the fact that I had to brain Mike tells me there’s something to the story,” Jensen barked.

The man gave a mutinous look but said nothing.

“If that’s true then we’ve got a problem,” Meghan said.

“Yeah, I’d say we do,” chirped the teenager. “Sorry, name’s Derek. I’m from Houston. I was visiting a friend in UW when the shit hit the fan.”

“What problem?” Meghan asked.

“Because if this doesn’t manifest itself like a flu virus,” Derek explained, “then we don’t know who’s infected. For all we know, there might be carriers but we can’t spot them until they’ve turned like … Mike. Worse, make others sick while they look normal.”

“Typhoid Mary,” Jackie stated, eyes wide with understanding and horror.

Jared didn’t think he could feel any more tired but hearing Jackie’s comment made him realize there was always a new low he could fall into.

“So what do we do?” Meghan asked, “Because if that’s true we have to separate, right?”

“And get picked off one by one, like out of some horror movie?” Derek asked. He shook his head violently, “No fucking way.”

“Derek’s right, we can’t go alone,” Jensen said. “So we pair up.”

Derek looked at him. “Okay, but who gets to choose?”

“I honestly don’t know and right now I can’t muster up enough energy to care.” Jensen pointed at Jared. “But this is my best friend so we’re out of the lottery.”

Meghan reached over and squeezed Jackie’s hand. “We’re going to stick together. Got us through this far.”

Jackie smiled and said, “So far so good.”

Derek looked at the man sitting next to him. “So…”

“Fuck off,” the guy barked. “I’m not playing tag-team with a faggot like you.”

Derek didn’t seem to take any offense. In fact, he sighed in relief and said, “Fine with me. And yeah, I may be gay but I’ve got zero interest in douchebags like you.”

Jensen scoured the beach. “I see more survivors. Let’s get everyone warmed up before we split up.”

“Why?” the mulish guy barked. “For all we know they got the flu out the yin-yang.”

“Wow,” Derek spat out. “I had no idea so much shit could be piled into someone your size.”

The guy snarled but the moment he raised his fist, Jared caught it and yanked it back down. Realizing he was outsized and quickly running out of good will, the man fell back into his quiet but mutinous state.

Jared didn’t want to spend any more time near the bastard so he joined Jensen in his search. Even Jackie and Meghan seemed to want to distance themselves away from the man and went the other way to help survivors to the bonfire.

In the end, Jared counted fourteen survivors including himself and Jensen. They all huddled around the warmth and spoke only occasionally. He found out the asshole’s name was Peter and currently worked in Bellevue. Jared didn’t bother to ask what his job was; he just felt sorry for the people forced to work with the man.

Jensen only came around the fire to get warm. But the moment his color returned, he marched out to the beach to remove whatever was useful from being pulled back into the sea.

Derek stood up and said, “I better see if I can get some of this stuff dried.”

“That’s a perfect job for someone like you,” Peter said from the corner of his mouth.

Jared’s temper snapped. But, he didn’t indulge in violence. Instead, he placed his right hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard. He felt Peter stiffen under his grasp before tensing up because of pain.

Jared said nothing and released his grip. But it was enough: Peter shut his mouth and dropped his gaze to the fire.

Derek gave a grateful glance towards Jared before focusing on the soaked debris. He unzipped every bag and meticulously examined its contents before spreading them out.

Jared watched the teenager and remembered how he was at that age.

_If I was in this shit when I was nineteen, I would’ve taken a dump in my pants. Twice._

He caught sight of Jensen hip-deep in the roiling waves, pulling something towards shore. It took Jared only for a moment to recognize the thing as a body.

_Oh Jesus, that’s a girl. Can’t be older than … five or six?_

Jared forced himself to make his way to Jensen. Then, he broke into a full run when he spotted Jensen giving mouth to mouth. He was less than ten feet when the child sat up, spewing seawater and coughing violently.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Jensen said in a rough but patient tone. “You’re okay.”

The girl started crying the moment she caught her breath. Jensen didn’t shush her. Instead, he held her in his arms, rocking slowly while murmuring nonsensical words. The girl finally stopped out of exhaustion.

“I want my mommy,” she said, her voice sore and thin.

“Do you know where your mommy is?” Jensen asked gently.

“She was swimming right behind me.”

Jared turned to the pounding waves and began searching.

“She was with you? Out there?” Jensen pointed to the sea.

“Mommy’s a good swimmer,” the girl explained, full of pride. “She got us to the rocks and then she said we had to swim here. Mommy helped me but then she went away.”

Jensen looked at Jared with tired eyes. “This big guy is my best buddy, Jared. He’s going to take you over there, next to the fire to get you warm. I’ll stay here and look for your mommy, okay?”

The girl nodded. “My name is Andrea. And my mommy’s name is Marie.”

“What does she look like, honey?” Jared asked.

“She’s very pretty.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Jensen said as Jared bent over and took Andrea into his arms. “Be careful with my friend. He might be big but he’s pretty fragile.”

Andrea’s face relaxed as Jared rolled his eyes and made a rude noise. He carried her back to the fire where both Jackie and Meghan took Andrea into their midst. Jared ran back to the spot where he’d left Jensen was and found him missing.

He looked at the water and spotted Jensen swimming towards the rocks. “Jensen!” he screamed, “Get back here!”

When Jared realized Jensen couldn’t hear him, he dove into the water. Unfortunately he couldn’t go far as he was exhausted from his previous inhuman endeavor.

After being forced back onto the beach, Jared paced back and forth and waited until Jensen came back, empty-handed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Jared exploded as he waded out to meet his friend. “You could’ve died!”

Jensen heaved deep breaths. “I wanted to find her.”

Jared shook his head, “She’s gone. You know that.”

“There was a chance, and as long as there was one … I had to try.” Jensen looked at the bonfire. “How else was I going to face that kid?”

Jared spotted Andrea who was eagerly peering at them over Meghan’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay.”

“The tide is pulling out,” Jensen said. “I don’t think there are going to be any more survivors. At least on this beach.”

“Agreed. Look, we better get out as soon as we can.”

“Why?”

“Because the locals might not appreciate having us around, not after what’s been happening in Seattle. In fact, they might be outright hostile.”

Jensen wiped the seawater from his face and moaned, “Why do you sound so much like Sam Winchester?”

“You don’t have to be ex-Lucifer to know how people will react,” Jared said, pulling Jensen to his feet. “And unlike Sam or Dean, we don’t have nine lives or an angel watching over us. So let’s haul ass.”

The two jogged back to the bonfire to find everyone watching them.

Jared saw their curious gazes and asked, “Something happened?”

“You guys are actors, right?” Derek asked. “I mean you’re in that show about those psycho brothers.”

Jensen gave a thin smile. “Yes we’re actors, but we’re not psycho brothers. Well … not all the time.”

“So, you guys are as cool as them?” Andrea asked.

Jensen looked at the girl. “Please tell me you don’t watch our show.”

Andrea’s shrug was startlingly like an adult, and for a moment Jared could picture her mother. “I’ve seen bits.”

“Look, we have to get off the beach,” Jensen said. “We don’t know what kind of reception we’re going to get so it’s best if we break off into groups as soon as possible and spread out.”

“Why?!” A man barked out then immediately reddened. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude. Name’s Tommy Haverhill.”

“A group looks more threatening than say two or three people,” Jensen answered. “And we’re not sure what the response is going to be by the locals.”

Derek paled and gave a huge sigh. “Oh fuck, didn’t think about that.”

“Considering the military just blew up a ferry filled with people, I’d say not very good,” Jackie said, looking at the smoking wreck still afloat at sea.

“And there’s the fact that the infection may already be on the island,” Meghan added. “The flu warning came out last week.”

That dampened the mood even further. Silently, the group disbanded to see what was available. To Jared’s great relief, the survivors had only minor skirmishes on the division of goods.

As soon as Jared was sure there wouldn’t be actual violence, he pulled Jensen aside. “Now what?”

“I hid our stuff in the tree line over there,” Jensen whispered. “We’re going to leave as soon as Meghan’s group does.”

“Why wait?”

“Andrea,” Jensen answered. “We have to make sure she leaves with them. Remember, she’s waiting for her mother.”

“Okay,” Jared said. He eyed the clump of brush trees and spotted something red: his canteen.

Feeling better that Jensen had a plan, but regretful that it didn’t involve others, Jared returned to the bonfire. He helped Meghan and Jackie pack and finagle Andrea into joining them. Derek buddied up with another woman who definitely needed his help. Jared watched Derek coax her out of her shock by asking her name. The shy answer of “Jamie” seemed to send him into spasms of delight. And after ten minutes, it was obvious Derek had found his partner.

To no one’s surprise, Peter was left by his lonesome, which seemed to suit him just fine.

Jensen made sure everyone had divided up the provisions as best as possible. As soon as they formed into groups, he spoke:

“It’s best if we avoid towns and home development sites where there are a lot of people. That way, you’ll have better chance of avoiding infection or getting shot.”

“It might be best if you don’t tell them what happened here or that you survived it,” Jared added.

“Why? Wouldn’t that win us more sympathy?” Meghan asked.

Jared shook his head. “No, I think there’s a good chance people will react badly. They’ll reason out that the military shot at us because we were infected.”

Meghan closed her eyes, fighting back frustration and tears.

“So, we stay off the beaten path,” Derek said. “Okay, sounds good.”

“What are you two going to do?” Meghan asked Jared and Jensen. “After all you guys have done … I don’t think we can’t thank you enough.”

“Just stay smart,” Jensen said, reddening under Meghan’s gratitude. “Best to squat in an empty house. Use your cell sparingly if it still works. For all we know, the military will try their best to track us.”

“Track?” Andrea echoed.

“The bonfire,” Jared answered. “I’m sure it’s visible by satellite or any aircraft that flies by.”

“So, they know we’re here. That there are survivors,” Peter said. “Oh fuck.”

“You said the bad word!” Andrea piped out.

Peter’s response was to bare his teeth like a wounded hyena. Jared immediately tensed. He didn’t like the man because of his attitude. But now, he began to suspect Peter wasn’t put together properly even before things fell apart.

 _This guy’s going to crack and when he does – people are going to die._ Jared was doubly glad that nobody was going with Peter, and that as soon as possible he was going to get away from the man.

He and Jensen watched the groups disappear through various points on the beach, waving farewell to those who turned around to signal their goodbyes.

“We did good, didn’t we?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, let’s hope it’s enough,” Jensen said, his face wan with exhaustion.

Jared took one look at him and said, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before we get stormed like Normandy on D-Day.”

Jensen cracked a smile through his salt-encrusted lips. “Aye aye, Master Chief.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

Because their bags were waterlogged, Jensen and Jared were forced to find a clearing to dry out the contents. Mercifully, half the gear was either waterproof or in containers that were.

Jared looked forlornly at the ruined mound of power bars wrapped in recyclable plastic. “I guess those are a loss.”

“Wouldn’t want to know what they taste like soaked in seawater,” Jensen said. “But let’s keep them. We might need provisions.”

“Sounds good,” Jared said, lining them on the grass next to his equally soaked tent gear.

They spread out the few clothes they had to dry and sat back. Jensen pulled out his Blackberry and tried to turn it on. It gave a hearty click then went dark; he couldn’t reboot it no matter what button he pushed.

The two men had no choice but to sit under the muted sun, allowing the heat to massage out the cramps and fear from their battered bodies. After full two hours, everything was dried enough to be packed back into the bags.

Jared looked around and spotted two paths. “Do we want to take those?” he asked, pointing at them.

“No, best to stay away from roads,” Jensen answered, eyeing them.

“Okay.” Jared pointed to high ground to their left. “We really need to get Santo’s layout.”

“Let's do that then.”

They hitched the bags onto their backs and fought their way through the underbrush. The trek was arduous since they didn’t take any roads, so the sun was on its way to bed by the time they got to the crest of the tallest hill they had yet to conquer.

“There’s a town,” Jensen said.

Jared spotted the sparse gathering. “Not much of one.” He looked closer and added, “Doesn’t look like they’re in any trouble. Yet, anyway.”

Jensen looked behind them. “And there’s the beach. The bonfire’s gone. I was hoping it’d still be burning.”

Jared knew what Jensen meant: If the fire still burned, it meant more survivors came after them.

“Do you see any boats? Any patrols?” Jensen asked.

Jared peered around. “No, nothing. Actually, there isn’t anything moving.”

“People have gone to ground,” Jensen said. “That means we should too.”

“Can we light a fire? It’s warm now but the temperature’s going to drop quite a bit at night.”

“As long as we don’t get hypothermia, we can’t,” Jensen said. “Can’t risk being spotted by anyone.”

 _Or anything_ , Jared added mentally. He dutifully followed Jensen to a rocky side of a hill that had a shallow cave carved into the base. Taking shelter in the dugout, they made their beds as best they could.

“I’ll take first watch,” Jensen offered.

“Thanks,” Jared said appreciatively. He knew how much Jensen loved his sleep.

He quickly sank into uneasy dream, plagued by visions of burning boats interfaced with images of Mike running after Jackie and Meghan, then Andrea, and finally himself.

Jared woke up to find Jensen vainly tending his right hand in the wane moonlight. “What’s wrong?”

Jensen looked up, startled. “I got a cut earlier, on the beach.”

“You want Neosporin or something?”

Jensen shook his head. “No, I don’t think I need any.” He then took a breath loud enough for Jared to hear. “I can’t remember if I got any of Mike’s blood on it.”

Jared was no longer tired. He sat up straight and began ripping through his bag. “I got some alcohol, I know…”

“If Mike’s blood got on me – it’s already too late.”

Jared snarled, “Fuck you.” He handed over a small bottle. “Pour it over the fucking cut or I’ll do it for you.”

Jensen fumbled in the dark but managed to grab the bottle from him. Jared smelled the stinging scent and sighed in relief. “There, that wasn’t too hard.”

“It hurts, you asshole,” Jensen grumbled reluctantly. “Why alcohol? Everyone uses iodine these days.”

“It came with the kit,” Jared said. “What time is it?”

“A little after four,” Jensen answered.

“Dude, why didn’t you wake me?”

“I tried but you were out cold. Besides, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Get some rest,” Jared said, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll take the shift.”

“Thanks,” Jensen said.

Jared watched his friend settle into his sleeping bag. And it didn’t take long for Jensen to prove himself a liar by falling asleep. Jared sighed and rubbed his face to stay awake.

 _I wonder what Gen’s doing right now_ , Jared thought, surprised he didn’t think about his wife earlier. _Jesus, what are my parents thinking? We have to reach them somehow. Tell them we’re okay._

Jared wondered if Jensen would allow them to at least make few phone calls to calm their family down and get some information. He spent the rest of the night wondering how he was going to do just that.

He let Jensen sleep until eight before waking him. Mumbling unintelligibly, Jensen sat up and saw the cloudy but bright sky.

“Where’s the fucking sun?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” Jared said. “It’s been like that since we got here. But then this is Seattle so don’t be so surprised.”

“Okay,” Jensen said and stood up. “Let’s get going.”

“Look, we need to call someone – anyone – and tell them what’s happened to us.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that last night,” Jensen said. “But I couldn’t come up with a way that wouldn’t end up with us being shot or jailed.”

“Find a nice granny. I’ll get us through the door.”

Jensen smiled. “Oh yeah, that famous Padalecki charm.”

“C’mon, let’s get going,” Jared said. “We should do this before there’s regular traffic: if there’s any.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise and finished packing. They marched through a gulley and skirted a paved road. Jared kept an eye on it though and even after a full hour, he saw no traffic whatsoever.

More paved roads appeared and soon thereafter a ramshackled house that was definitely occupied. They didn’t even have to talk to each other to know not to approach it. There were multiple cars out front and they were all pickup trucks or SUVs. Jared could easily imagine the welcome they’d get: hail of bullets and maybe a brew or two aimed at their heads.

The second house was only minutes away, and though it was even more run down than the first, there was only one car out front, and it was an ancient rusty Toyota Supra.

“Grandma?” Jensen said, squinting.

Jared took a peek into the car. “Definitely, I’m seeing a blanket, and an ancient Stephen King novel. There’s a picture of little kids glued to the dashboard. Otherwise, the car’s neat.”

“Okay,” Jensen said. He eyed the small ranch house. “Why don’t you go first? I’ll just hang around here. No need to freak out grandma if we can help it.”

Jared gave a small nod. He took a sniff of his t-shirt to make sure he didn’t smell too bad before tussling his hair a bit. With a boyish grin firmly planted on his face, Jared approached the front door.

He rang the bell twice then stood at the edge of the porch. He heard someone stir inside but no one answered the door.

“Hello?” Jared said softly, his Texan accent front and center. “Hey, do you have a phone? I’ve got to call my mom to tell her I’m okay. My cell’s gone to hell and I don’t know why.”

There was definitely a movement. Then he saw a small figure.

“Oh hi,” Jared said. Stepping down one step to put more distance between himself and the grandmother in order to make her comfortable enough to approach him. “Thanks for answering. You’re the first person who did today!”

The old woman peeked through the screen door. “I’m sorry but…” she spotted Jensen sitting on the ground, sunning himself. With a stunned look on her face, she said, “Oh … you said you have a problem with your cell?”

“No reception,” Jared answered. “And Jensen managed to drop his in a puddle so his is out too.”

“I think my landline still works,” the woman said as she opened the door wider. “Is the call long distance?”

Jared winced. “Yeah, my mom’s in Texas. Is that a problem?”

“No. Come in. Does your friend want to come in too?”

“No,” Jared said. “He needs all the sun he can get. Do you see how pale he is?”

“Yes, he is a bit pale. But my oh my, he is one _fine_ looking boy.”

Jared rolled his eyes and blew out a breath of mock outrage. “Can I tell you how tired I am of hearing that?”

The woman threw back her head and laughed. Jared watched, grinning. It felt good to hear something so pure and sweet.

“My name’s Eddy by the way,” she said as Jared stepped into her house. She pointed an old-fashioned rotary phone. “There it is.”

Jared dove eagerly for it. He dialed his mother’s number and to his relief, she answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” she said, anxiously.

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Oh my God, are you okay? Where are you?”

“Santos Island,” Jared said. “We were on a hiking trip here when we came into some cell troubles.”

“Santos? I thought you guys were in Seattle!”

“Nope,” Jared said, popping his lips on the ‘pe’. “Santos. It’s beautiful here by the way.”

“Jared, can you talk freely?”

“Nope, by the way Jensen’s okay. His cell got soaked so he can’t call home. Can you tell them he’s fine?”

“Of course. So … Santos. I’ll tell Gen and we’ll figure something out.”

“Okay, cool,” Jared gave Eddy a thumbs up signal. “Love you, mom. So don’t worry, okay? I’ll try calling you later!”

“Love you too! Oh God, Jared, take care!”

“Don’t I always?” With that Jared hung up. He dared not take any more time on the phone. Not with Eddy watching. He didn’t want her to get suspicious. As far as the woman was concerned, she met up with two nice boys, one of who needed to make a single phone call to his mother.

Jared stuck his head out the door and shouted, “Mom’s fine! She’s going to call yours and tell her we’re okay.”

Jensen raised his arms in a motion of triumph. Then, he went back to tanning despite the fact that the sun was only a hazy tease.

Eddy smiled. “Your friend must not get much sunshine.”

“No, our jobs make that impossible.”

“How long do you work?”

“We clock in at five in the morning and keep on going until they need us. Sometimes well into the night.”

Eddy looked shocked by Jared’s explanation. “What’s your job? And isn’t that illegal?”

“You’d think,” Jared said. “We work up in Vancouver, in the television industry.”

“Oh, you do lighting and stuff like that?” Eddy asked. “That must be exciting!”

Jared shook his head. “No, the excitement dies after a while. And the work can be brutal, especially during the cold months and the shoots are outdoors.”

“That sounds harsh.”

“It is, but it’s a paying job,” Jared said. He glanced at the phone and asked, “Do you know of any stores that sells cell phones? Or maybe prepaid ones?”

Eddy’s smile vanished and her eyes turned wary. “Well, I … there is a store but…”

“Eddy? What’s wrong?” Jared asked softly.

“It’s that … Mr. Johnson who owns the store? He’s well - he’s awfully upset about what’s been happening with the flu?” Eddy took a deep sigh. “A lot of people are scared and some of them – like Johnson – have become completely paranoid. If what I heard is true, Johnson and some others have locked up their homes and businesses and have taken to the waters.”

Jared paused at that. “The waters?”

“They’ve got boats, so they stocked them with provisions and went out to sea.”

“Really?” Jared said, not at all surprised by the gossip. “That sounds … bad.”

Eddy leaned over and grasped Jared’s forearm, surprising him with her strength. “The truth is a lot of us live here because we like being alone, and this flu thing … well, it has a lot of us spooked and spooked people make unfriendly neighbors. So, it’s best if you stay away from Valley – it’s our main town.”

“Okay, that’s good advice,” Jared said. “Is there anyone else who can help us? Maybe get us off the island later on?”

Eddy chewed on her bottom lip for a while. “There’s McMahon. He’s a bit crazy but he’s not going to listen to what others say.”

“Where is he?”

“Probably sitting on a barstool somewhere,” Eddy said. “But if he’s sober, you can find him on the east docks. He’s usually baking himself bone-dry by his boat, _Adele_.”

“Thanks,” Jared said. “We should get going.”

“Wait a second,” Eddy said before darting to the back of the house. She returned with a plastic shopping bag loaded with food. “Here, take this.”

Jared fought back sudden tears and managed to choke out, “We can’t take that.”

“I’ve been hoarding for years,” Eddy explained. “Santos get wind storms, ice storms, or just plain ol’ storms that cut us off from the mainland. So, I’ve got a pantry stocked with foodstuff going back decades.”

Jared reluctantly took the bag from Eddy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Eddy said. “Now remember, stay away from Valley. You’ll have better reception at the docks anyway. The people who work there might be short-tempered but they’ve been through so much crap, this flu thing isn’t going to shake their trees very much.”

Jared kissed her on the forehead before leaving. He felt more than happy: he was buoyant. His faith in humanity had been restored by Eddy’s compassion. Fully expecting suspicion if not outright hostility, Jared was rewarded with not only food but also unsolicited kindness.

“Man, you and your charm,” Jensen said when he spotted Jared. “You’re a tribble, you know that?”

Jared shrugged and smiled. “What can I say?”

Jensen stuffed his backpack with Eddy’s gift. “Did you get to talk for long?”

“No,” Jared shook his head. “Thought it’d be wise if I didn’t hog the phone too much. Anyway, mom knows about where we are. That’s all I managed to get out.”

“Let’s get going,” Jensen said, his gaze never leaving Jared. “She’s watching us.”

“Okay.”

The two men didn’t hurry as they left the property. Jared was tempted to turn back and see if Eddy was still watching, but decided it’d be wise not to. They strolled back into the woods, looking like hikers they pretended to be.

“Did she say anything else?” Jensen asked.

“She gave us some good advice,” Jared answered. “Told us to stay away from the main town – Valley - she called it. She also told me that we’d have better chance of getting help if we stick to the docks.”

“Docks?” Jensen frowned. “Why the hell…”

“People might be more dodgy there but they tend to make up their own minds,” Jared said. “They’re also less likely to freak out.”

“Probably because they’re drunk off their asses,” Jensen surmised drily. “But she does make a good point.

“Anything about getting phones?”

“There seems to be only one store and the owner’s probably gone nutso by now,” Jared said.

“O-k-a-y. So, let’s take her advice and avoid the town.”

“We’re going to have to find a way around the island though,” Jared said.

“She gave us a map.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, it was in the bag.” Jensen pulled out a tourist-friendly map of Santos Island proclaiming its annual lavender festival to be the ‘Best and Prettiest in the Northwest’. He pointed at a red spot. “I’m guessing this is where her house is.”

“Man, Valley is on the other side of the island.”

“So are the docks.”

“Why did the ferry try to land on this side then?” Jared looked at the gaily-painted area on the map that witnessed the horrific chaos only a day earlier.

“Because the captain knew,” Jensen guessed. “He must have had warnings to turn back and realized there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d make it to the landing. So … so he got as close to Santos as possible. Maybe even crash the ferry onto the rocks, giving us the best chance possible to make it.”

Jared paled greatly as he digested what Jensen was saying. “That’s … I don’t know what that is, actually.”

“Pure bravery,” Jensen whispered. “He must have steered the boat even as it was being shot at.”

“He couldn’t have left the wheel then,” Jared added. “Jesus Christ. What could he have known that was so horrible that he’d do all that?”

“Whatever it is, we have to be careful.” Jensen stared at the map. “Avoid Valley, go to the docks. Sounds like a plan.”

“Damn good plan,” Jared agreed fervently.

By unspoken agreement, they trekked deeper into the woods, avoiding any semblance of manmade roads altogether. They found an abandoned barn and took shelter there from the midday heat. Though the sun was nowhere to be seen, the clouds were thin enough for the two to navigate in the cool darkness.

A can of Vienna sausages with a loaf of Wonder Bread filled out for lunch. They drank water miserly because they weren’t sure when they would get drinkable water again.

It wasn’t until five and after a good nap that the two started moving once more. They remained cautious and avoided any houses. They also skirted couple of parks even though they weren’t occupied.

They crested yet another steep hill but came to a halt at the top.

“Well, there’s Valley,” Jensen said.

“It looks like a ghost town,” Jared added.

His observation was right. None of the stores were open; all the parking spaces in front of them were empty. Even the movie theater was unlit. And there was no one walking the streets.

No police car was visible.

“Ghost town’s right,” Jensen agreed. “But it’s Saturday night, so that’s the last thing Valley should be.”

“What are the odds they know about the ferry?”

“I have no idea,” Jensen answered, “but I can’t imagine the military telling the public that they just blew up a ferry loaded with people. That’s going to cause mass panic in Seattle.”

“And more people will die that way,” Jared concluded. “So, okay, but maybe somebody saw?”

“Could be,” Jensen said. “But you’d think someone would’ve come forward to help.”

“Unless they’re scared out of their minds,” Jared said. “And they’ve got families to protect.”

Jensen pointed to the right. “There, we can take that trail and avoid Valley altogether.”

“I hope so,” Jared said. “I mean, I understand why people are acting the way they are, but I have no desire to meet up with them right now.”

“Amen.”

The two climbed down the hill and veered away before they reached town. Not for the first time, Jared was glad they were fit. Santos wasn’t anywhere as big as Bainbridge, but hiking through the woods at their speed, it would’ve been impossible had neither of them kept up their training during filming.

Jared took a peek at his friend and wondered what Jensen did exactly to keep in shape. They talked about it quite a bit, but Jensen never really revealed his workout regiment. Jared knew he changed it frequently. Jensen wasn’t type to try out fads, but he got bored easily, so his trainer had to continuously find new routines to keep Jensen occupied and motivated.

Without warning Jensen veered off to the left, hauling Jared with him. They were barely behind some blackberry bushes when a truck drove by, slowly. The driver wasn’t looking around, but the two men in the bed of the truck were. And they were armed.

 _Hunting rifles. With scopes. And they look like they know how to use them_ , Jared thought, his legs weak and his hands trembling. _Jesus, that’s either a posse or some half-assed militia group._

He didn’t move, even took shallow breaths until the truck and its occupants were completely out of earshot.

“Okay, I’m betting they know about us,” Jensen said.

“So that’s our greeting committee?” Jared closed his eyes, remembering the survivors’ faces including Andrea. “We shouldn’t have split up.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that feeling too,” Jensen said. “But if there are more of us: there are more targets for them to take down.”

“Jesus, what’s going on here?”

“I’m guessing everyone’s taking more than their fair share of the paranoia kool-aid.”

Jared turned to Jensen when he didn’t continue speaking. He saw the thoughtful, slightly dazed look on his friend’s face and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“When we get to the docks, let’s see if any of the others made it,” Jensen said. “But even if we get there…”

Jared realized the problem Jensen was thinking. “What then? Where in hell are we going to go?”

“The woods,” Jensen said. “Then … maybe off the island. Bainbridge? That’s close by.”

“But there are more people there,” Jared countered. “Wouldn’t that be more dangerous?”

“Not necessarily, easier for us to disappear in Bainbridge than here where everyone knows everybody.”

Jared paused for a moment then asked, “It’s summertime, right? So where are the summer people?”

“Could be that this flu thing scared them off,” Jensen said.

“But would that make sense? I mean people would want to _get out_ of the city if there’s an epidemic.”

“That’s true.” Jensen pulled out the map and studied it. “If I were summer people, I’d want to…”

“Live near the water, close to the ferry and the main town for convenience,” Jared finished Jensen’s sentence.

“Here and here,” Jensen said, pointing to two areas. “Odds are their houses are unoccupied, so we could squat there for a while, at least take a break.”

They moved cautiously, fully aware that armed men were hunting any outsiders. As they passed by houses, they noticed there were no lights, no sounds. Not even pets.

 _Where are the dogs?_ Jared thought as they passed by a newly renovated craftsman. _I’ve seen toys, water, and food bowls, even a dog house but there are no dogs._

This spookiness upset him the most, even more than the thought of armed hunters. Then he remembered the golden retriever that committed suicide right in front of him.

“Do you think they know?” he asked.

“Know what?” Jensen answered.

“The dogs, do you think they know? That’s why they kill themselves or run away?”

“Jesus, I didn’t even think about that,” Jensen said. “So, you think the dogs are dead?”

“Or infected, which means we have to find shelter soon.”

“Why’s that?”

“Predatory and feral dogs – they tend to hunt at night,” Jared answered. “They can also become scavengers if push come to shove. And we’re carrying a lot of food.”

“And I thought things couldn’t get worse. Okay, let’s haul ass.”

They didn’t bother to study any more houses as they made their way. They didn’t want to know any more than they already they did: it was already too much to process.

Jared spotted the summer homes immediately. They were bigger, newer, and every one of them had a satellite dish. They scoured the community until they found one without any cars parked in front.

“The one with the red shingle roof,” Jensen said. “It’s the farthest, and as long as we’re careful we won’t be seen.

“Speaking of careful, let’s make sure the area’s not being scouted.”

Jared winced. “Didn’t think of that.”

“C’mon, all I want right now is a shower. And maybe drink a gallon of water.”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

  
The house was deserted with dustsheets covering the big furniture. To make good news better, the pantry wasn’t emptied. There were non-perishable goods, and the gas was still running along with water. Jared and Jensen were careful though: they never stood near a window and didn’t turn on any lights.

Jared found the answer to why an empty house was in working order: it was resting on the kitchen counter.

> Dear Mr. Taylor,
> 
> The pantry’s stocked and everything should be running smoothly by the time you and your family arrive. I found the wasp nest and got rid of them. Hopefully that will be the last time your little ones gets stung!
> 
> Thanks for the bonus. The Missus sure does appreciate it, especially since Henry is old enough to start hankering for his own car.
> 
> Sincerely,  
>  Mike
> 
> PS: If you need anything else, you can call me anytime. You’ll be able to reach me on my cell after five.

  
After taking long showers, they ate canned ravioli and washed the meal down with cold water, which Jared thought tasted like liquid manna.

“How long should we wait?” Jared asked as they watched the sun go down.

“Maybe three or four days,” Jensen said. “We have to gauge what’s going on and how other people are acting. For all we know there might be a cure to the flu or a vaccine at least. Which means all this could blow over in a matter of days.

“If not, we have to make other plans.”

“Do you think those hunters killed someone?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen answered truthfully. “The pack mentality is a scary thing. All you need is an alpha male who’s charismatic enough and without an ounce of remorse and … well, things can go to hell pretty damn fast.”

Jared remembered watching couple of documentaries focused on such men. “Jim Jones and company.”

Jensen nodded. “Exactly. So as good an idea it was to get out of Seattle, we can’t stay here either.”

“We need to keep moving, then?”

“Yeah.” Jensen checked his watch. “Do you think it’s safe to call home now?”

“Let’s wait until it’s dark,” Jared said. “I know it’s stupid to think that we can be somehow tracked down because we’re using phones, but … if the landlines have any hub on Santos then the last thing we need to do is light up someone’s board.”

“You mean a switchboard?” Jensen shook his head. “Don’t think those exist anymore.”

“But there might be a more sophisticated version of it on Santos,” Jared countered.

“Okay, then, we’ll wait until nine. Hopefully it’ll be safe for us then.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to be sleeping, anyway.”

Jared waited impatiently for the chance to call home, but when nine came around they discovered the landline was dead. And remained so for the rest of the night.

* * *

  
**San Antonio, Texas**

“Are you sure that’s what Jared said?” Jeff asked. “Mom, I have to be sure.”

“He said they were at Santos,” Sharon replied firmly, with no hesitation.

“Okay, so they’re away from Seattle, which is great. Because from what I know, the epidemic has exploded there.”

“What did you find out?” Gerald asked, the veneer of paternal calm long gone.

“Not much, just that the military had taken over,” Jeff answered. “And they’ve come down like a ton of bricks. The city is in complete lockdown. Anyone trying to get out was arrested or worse.”

“They’ve shot someone?” Sharon asked, horrified.

“Yeah, at least that’s the rumor.” Jeff glanced at the black television screen. His mother had turned it off after hearing hours of bad news grow steadily more desperate. “And from what I understand, there are more than few casualties.”

“They shot more than one person?” Gerald looked taken back by the thought.

“Five,” Jeff answered. “And there was some airstrike but that one’s unconfirmed.”

“Airstrike? On what?”

Jeff shrugged, raising his hands palms up in a sign of hopelessness. “There isn’t anything on the official news channels. I’ve been reading up on the internet and those are being taken down every second. Which tells me that they’ve been reporting the truth.”

“So we can’t trust CNN? My God.”

“How much did we trust CBS or ABC during Vietnam?” Gerald said. “Remember the Tet Offensive? Everything changed then.”

“And after this it’s going to change again,” Jeff commented dourly.

“Do you have any medical information?” Sharon asked.

Jeff shook his head. “I’m an internist, Mom. This stuff involves CDC and they’re about as classified as the Pentagon and twice as paranoid when it comes to information. I just don’t have the connections to get anything from that corner.”

Gerald stood up. “Maybe I can get something.”

“You’re an accountant,” Sharon said reasonably.

“Maybe one of my clients knows something. I’m going to make a few phone calls.”

Jeff watched his father dash out of the room and stood up to leave.

“You may be able to fool your father but you can’t fool me,” Sharon said sharply. “Tell me what you know.”

Jeff cringed. He’d planned to leave as soon as he could without raising any suspicion from his parents.

“Jeff, answer me.”

“Remember Linda? My ex?”

“Yes, a lovely if also slightly neurotic girl.”

“Yeah, well, her neurosis had gotten worse since she started working for Sloan-Kettering, but from what she said, her pay grade more than makes up for it.

“The CDC appropriated her lab two days ago. Her specialty was in the field of viral pathology. The stuff she studies is too complicated for me to fully understand, but whatever she does – it has to be important to them.”

“Does the CDC have that kind of pull?”

“No, but the executive branch of the Pentagon can. And they did it to nineteen other labs.”

“All involving viral pathology?” Sharon asked.

“No, but at least half were focused on viral research,” Jeff answered.

“So, that means they’ve got the best working for them, right?” Sharon paused. “Wait a minute … oh no.”

Jeff watched her mouth open in dismay. “I know. It also means they haven’t got a goddamn clue what they’re dealing with. If they did, they wouldn’t have taken so many labs.”

“Is it like the Spanish Flu? Like SARS?”

Jeff shook his head. “No, and that’s the weird part. I only got to read few of the initial reports, and though the thing presents itself as flu initially, it spirals into something else entirely for some of the patients.”

“As what?”

Jeff had to drag out his answer. “Well, the closest thing I could think of is something crossed between rabies and ‘roid rage.”

“Roll rage?”

“Sorry, steroid rage.”

“Wait a minute,” Sharon shook her head as if to clear her mind from confusion. “That behavior … isn’t it aggressive?”

“Pretty much. That’s what scares me the most, and probably why the military has become so violent in their responses. It’s one thing if the patient’s sedated and in a hospital bed. It’s completely different when they’re running around, violent, homicidal, and willing to infect anyone or anything that comes across their path.”

“Anything? Does the virus infect animals, too?”

“I have no idea and what’s so worrisome is the CDC probably doesn’t know either. But if this thing jumps species, then quarantining Seattle is a moot exercise because it’s a seaport. It’s got hundreds of pleasure boats, ferries, freighters, and cruise ships docking there every day. Containment in that scenario is fucking impossible.”

Sharon saw Jeff’s gaze drop to his hands resting on his knees. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

“Remember Uncle Beattie’s place down at Eagle Pass? The one dad and I worked on few years back?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Its source of water is an underground well on the property, and we finished installing a gas generator before we had to quit. I want you, dad, and Meghan to go down there tomorrow. I already sent Diane ahead. She should have supplies ready by the time you get there.

“I called Gen. Her family’s got a place in Vinalhaven up in Maine. She’s left for it earlier today.”

“My God, is it really that bad?”

“Yes, mom, it’s that bad.”

“What about you? What are you going to do?”

“Mom, I’m a doctor. They need me here.”

“Jeff, what aren’t you telling me?”

“We’ve been … called in,” Jeff explained gently. “We’re on call 24/7 now. So, if I suddenly go missing, people are going to get suspicious.”

“I’m not going to leave you behind,” Sharon said. “No way I’m going to leave my son…”

“Your son’s a grown man, and his job is to take care of the sick,” Jeff interrupted in a hard voice. “Don’t think that I don’t know what I’m doing, Mom.”

Sharon reared back as if struck.

“I’m sorry,” Jeff said in a much gentler voice, “but it’s the truth. Besides you can’t do anything here, and it’ll make me feel a lot better if I knew you guys were safe, or at least far away from here as possible.”

“What’s going to happen then?”

“The way this thing’s rolling – it won’t take long for them to either get hold of it.”

“Or not,” Sharon finished her son’s sentence.

“Yeah, there’s that.”

“What about Jared?”

“If he’s on Santos Island, then he’s pretty safe,” Jeff said. “It’s got a small population for its size, and though it’s next to Seattle, since the city’s shut down – nobody can get there.”

“But what happens if he needs to get out?”

Jeff couldn’t answer, but his silence was enough. Gerald returned to the deadened room.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s just something Jeff told me, sweetheart,” Sharon said. “We need to talk. Jeff needs us to do something.”

Jeff took a deep breath and this time obeyed the little voice inside his head and left. His drive to the hospital was short since there was almost no one on the streets.

_Paranoia can’t be contained. Fear’s spreading and it’s only matter of time before something gives._

He arrived at the hospital just as his cell went off. He read the text and frowned. When the elevator opened to the third floor, he was greeted by a hive of activity.

“Melissa!” he shouted when he saw a familiar face.

Dr. Atkins turned around and spotted Jeff waving his hand. “Hey, your dose is waiting. Better get it quick!”

Jeff caught up with his compatriot. “My dose? What dose?”

“Cipro,” Melissa answered. “It was flown in from Fort Edwards just over an hour ago.”

Jeff grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her into an empty room. “Wait a minute – Cipro? What the fuck? Are we dealing with Anthrax?”

Melissa shook her head. “We’re not sure. And to tell you the truth, I don’t think it is. But the fact that they’ve released their entire cache of the meds tells you something.

“And none of it’s good.”

“Where is my dose?” Jeff asked, his voice shaking even worse than his hands.

“D314,” Melissa answered.

“Thanks.”

Jeff rushed up another floor using the staircase. He didn’t want to wait for the elevator. By the time he reached D314, he was covered in sweat.

“Here,” a nurse brusquely greeted him with a tiny paper cup. “Dr. Padalecki, take it right away.”

He took the pills and tossed them down. “Thanks, Natalie.”

Natalie gave a horrid grimace of a smile, jarring Jeff from his panic. “What’s wrong?”

Natalie looked down at his empty cup. “They’re giving the Cipro only to the doctors. No one else is getting a dose.”

“ _What_?”

“Nobody else is getting the medicine but the doctors.” Natalie showed him the printout she was holding.

Jeff took it and read it. Then flipped to the second, third, and fourth page. “Oh my God.”

“It’s like that at Metropolitan too,” Natalie said in a tremulous tone. “They don’t have enough for all of us.”

Jeff hugged her. “I know this isn’t exactly good news but I don’t think it’s Anthrax.”

Natalie gave a hiccupping laugh. “Yeah, that’s what Dr. Roth and Dr. Boone told me. But it isn’t exactly making me feel better.”

“Me too, if you want the truth.”

Natalie laughed in his embrace for a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military had set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

**Los Angeles, California**

“So, that’s what I know,” Danni said, eyeing the silenced CNN news report on her television. “From what I understand the Navy’s now blockading the city.”

“Did you get hold of Jared’s parents yet?” Donna asked.

“No, their line’s been busy,” Danni answered. “How’s dad doing?”

“He’s worried. Mac is coming home either today or tomorrow.”

“And Josh?” Danni asked. She was in no way surprised that Alan had pulled his youngest out of school. The current news would make any parent want to bring their fledglings back into the nest for safety.

“We can’t get hold of him,” Donna said, her voice thin with fear. “He was on vacation.”

“I remember,” Danni said. “Hawaii, right?”

“Maui. We got a call from him when he landed but that was the last we heard of him. And that was a week ago.”

“Josh can take care of himself,” Danni said firmly. “And there’s something else. From what I heard, most of the navy doctors stationed around Seattle is receiving some kind of a shot. They’re not sure what it is.”

“Is that possible?”

“They’re not told what it was when it was given to them,” Danni said. “But it made quite a few of them sick. Some of them had to be hospitalized.”

“How do you know so much?”

“You’d be amazed what a pair of nice boobs and a reputation as a lesbian could get you.”

“Lesbian?” Donna echoed. “Where did that come from?!”

“My pilot, I’m playing a lesbian character. But that’s not what’s important. The fact that the government is handing out medicine to its personnel is good news.”

“Of course,” Donna agreed with a hearty sigh. “That _is_ good news. I’ll call you the moment I hear something.”

“I’ll do the same,” Danni said. She managed to keep her composure until Donna ended the call.

Then, wordlessly, she fell to the floor. Danni rocked herself until she calmed down and stayed put until she was sure that she could stand on her feet without collapsing.

After downing a glass of red wine, Danni re-read the printout of the e-mail she’d received only an hour ago.

>   
>  I know you don’t know me but you did my buddy a favor few years ago. He was coming off of rehab and it was tough for him. And your visit was the one thing that kept him going before and after. He’s doing okay now. And I think it’s basically because of what you said and the hours you spent with him.
> 
> You treated him like a man even though everyone else didn’t.
> 
> So, I think you should know this. There’s shit going down in Seattle and I saw a list. Your husband’s name was on that list. It was about a group of people who got on a ferry when they shouldn’t have. And they got hurt.
> 
> The good news is that our bird saw survivors, and if your husband is half as tough as his character on TV, then he’d made it. The island they were heading for is called Santos. It’s a pretty good place to hide out until this shit blows over because the main problem is happening in Seattle.
> 
> The ferry was targeted because there were infected people in it. No matter what you see on television, the Navy is not in the habit of shooting civilians, and shooting them while they are on a boat is fucking insane. We’re just not built that way. So, it must have been pretty fucking important for that ferry to not make it out of Seattle.
> 
> If your husband’s smart and he knows to keep to himself – he’ll make it.
> 
> I can’t say anything else, but I hope this helps.
> 
> God watch over you and yours.

  
Danni wanted to believe the e-mail was a cruel hoax, one perpetrated by some nutjob who routinely jacked off on her FHM pictures because he couldn’t get it up in front of a real woman.

But the mention of the ‘buddy’ blew that notion right out of her mind the moment she’d considered it. She remembered the paraplegic: a nineteen-year-old kid from Montana who had stepped on an IAD while on patrol. The doctors in the Green Zone did the best they could, and the surgeons in Berlin did even better. But they couldn’t perform miracles, and the kid had lost both his legs.

Danni felt sorry for him when she read the letter from his parents pleading for her to drop by and cheer up their youngest child. She also felt rage. Nineteen and bound to a wheelchair: to Danni who was always an active person, this was completely unacceptable.

So, she visited Corporal Timothy Mags, and found someone on the brink of suicide. Danni spent the entire afternoon chatting with him, at times flirting, at times acting maternal. She considered it to be one of her best performances.

And now Danni knew it was also successful.

 _Jensen’s alive_ , she braced herself. _Sharon said he’s alive and he’s got Jared with him._

Danni had spent enough time with Jensen to know well enough that he could become incredibly tough when push came to shove. But when he was with Jared, the two were almost indestructible: where one would falter, the other would bolster.

At first she admired the give and take. It wasn’t until she’d married Jensen that she realized that particular highlight was exclusive to Jared. She took it well enough, but it wasn’t long before Danni figured out the _reason_ for the exclusivity.

Even then she loved Jensen so she could have chosen to look the other way. But what Danni couldn’t stand was having her husband deliberately behave in the same blind manner. It didn’t take long for the marriage to quietly implode. There wasn’t any one serious blowup, but as Danni withdrew, Jensen did not try to conquer the growing distance between them. It was this willful ignorance which made her give up on their marriage altogether.

Danni suspected he knew her reason for leaving: Jensen never asked why when her attorney served him the divorce papers when he returned to LA.

But now, with all hell broken loose, Danni was glad Jensen was with Jared. She might not be Mrs. Ackles anymore, but she was still very much in love with him. After toying around the idea of dinner, Danni called her family instead.

By the end of the conversation, she’d made up her mind. It took Danni less than twenty minutes to pack what she needed. After securing Icarus in her car, Danni locked down the house. She didn’t take any of the major highways but the back roads. After a full hour, she let Icarus out. The dog had been in enough drives to behave appropriately.

Danni drove through the night, stopping only to get gas and caffeine.

* * *

  
**Santo Island**

Jensen jarred awake. For a moment, he tensed up, thinking someone had woken him. It took him few seconds to realize it was a nightmare that had shoved him away from the Land of Nod.

He spotted Jared only few feet from him, still deeply asleep, and from the looks of it nightmare-free. Jensen had always envied that of his friend. No matter how ugly the day, Jared had the rare ability to let it go when he stepped out the door.

 _When he hits fifty, he’ll still be going strong. I, on the other hand, will probably be on my third ulcer surgery_ , Jensen thought wryly.

He stood up quietly, while trying to rub the ache out of the back of his neck. Now that he’d gotten some truly deep sleep, Jensen was hounded by pain, no doubt a by-product of the superhuman effort he’d put in the last two days.

Jensen briefly considered taking another shower but decided otherwise. He had no idea how long that luxury would last and didn’t want to risk wasting what little they had left. Especially since he found instant coffee in the pantry.

Jensen was not a fan of Sanka, but right now he could write an ode about it. With a stiff yawn, Jensen went to the kitchen, still avoiding the windows even though it was two in the morning. He made himself a cup of lukewarm coffee and settled down with a book.

Whoever was the owner of the summerhouse had impeccable taste in furniture but a garish one when it came to reading material. _People Magazine_ and _Us_ dating back four years were scattered about the house, and the books were mainly of Tom Clancy and Michael Connolly types. Jensen had gone through that phase when he was nineteen and saw no need to revisit it.

He tossed the book aside and instead picked up a gossip magazine, and in minutes was reliving the glory days of ‘Bennifer’. It was well past three when Jensen felt drowsy enough to try falling asleep again. He went back to the office they’d converted into a bedroom. They had chosen the stifling quarters because it had no windows so there was no chance of being accidentally discovered.

Jared was even more sprawled out than he was before, and Jensen had a hard time reclaiming his spot. But after shoving aside a leg, Jensen managed to make a decent sized nest for himself. He was asleep in minutes and didn’t notice when Jared threw his leg back into its previous position.

Jensen was woken for the second time in three hours and under painful circumstances. Jared’s elbow was crammed against the side of his head and his leg had now been pressing over Jensen’s thighs to such a degree that Jensen started feeling rats nibbling on them. He sat up, tossed the errant limb aside while slapping away the bony elbow.

While massaging his calves, Jensen looked around the room and noticed some light creeping under the doorjamb. A glance at his watch informed him it was quarter past six. Noticing how tired Jared was, he decided to wake his friend after his morning ablutions.

Jensen gamily risked using the gas and heated up some oatmeal for breakfast. He found old crackers that tasted okay and tossed that into the breakfast pile because he knew in spite of Jared’s reassurances he went to bed hungry. Fortunately, Jared had high metabolism which allowed him to eat pretty much whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Unfortunately, because of their current situation, Jared could not.

Jensen figured it would take Jared three to four days before physically adjusting to their limited supplies. Jensen had to be forgiving for those days. He knew his friend could become incredibly short-tempered when hungry.

_Of course, the fear he’s feeling might kill his appetite. I know mine’s pretty much flushed down the fucking toilet._

Jensen put the food on a tray and made his way back to the den, even more careful about not being seen. Jared was still asleep but Jensen knew his friend was slowly waking up. Jensen had watched him sleep many times and knew the telltale signs only too well.

“Hey,” Jensen whispered, “wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Jared mumbled incoherently then opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” Jensen said. “In the morning, if you’re curious.”

“Feels like evening,” Jared sat up. “Oh man … I feel like I took on the entire Pittsburgh defense!”

Jensen dug out the ibuprofen from his bag and handed over the bottle. “The adrenaline’s gone, so we’re feeling everything since the ferry.”

Jared lifted his t-shirt and stared at his chest. “Well, shit.”

Jensen winced. “Oh man, that ought to sting. Are your ribs okay?”

Jared took deep breaths while gingerly fingering them. “None of them are broken. Thank God for little favors.”

Jensen handed a mug of coffee and pointed at the tray. “Dig in. We need to keep our strength up.”

Jared didn’t need to be told twice. He wolfed down the food and water, while saving the coffee for last as if it were dessert.

“Dude, I had no idea plain ol’ oatmeal tasted so good.” Jared gave a small burp and an embarrassed grin. “Sorry.”

“Doesn’t take long for men to devolve, does it?” Jensen asked drily. “Danni used to say leave me alone with my dad and Josh in a hunting cabin for a week and it’d be a miracle if we could remember how to work a cell phone by the end of vacation.”

Jared guffawed. “My mom said that was what happened when Jeff and Dad took that week off to go skiing in Montana. To this day she swears they probably just drank and belched. And never touched the slopes.”

Jensen gave a shy smile. “Yeah, me and Josh did that once. Told mom we were going to explore Yosemite. Ended up watching porn and cruising the bars.

“And we’re never, ever going to tell anyone else about this.”

Jared crossed his chest and said, “I swear I’ll never tell your mom about any skanky stuff you did.”

“And I’ll do the same.” Jensen stiffened suddenly and turned his head towards the door.

Jared did the same but heard nothing. “What is it?”

“I thought...”

Jared heard it then: the roar of truck engine at full throttle. They scrambled into the living room and to the grand picture window, fully expecting the hunting posse from yesterday gunning down a ferry survivor.

But what they saw was even more horrifying. And confusing.

The truck was roaring through the dirt road in front of the house but it was the one being hunted. Following the careening vehicle were handful of chasers, and Jared didn’t need to be told to know they were all infected.

The woman at the back looked familiar but it took Jared a moment to place the face, mainly because the visage had elongated dramatically since he’d seen her last. When she looked around, Jared realized why.

The lower half of the jaw had been completely dislocated so that it was dangling loosely from the skull. And the blood had matted the silver-blonde hair so thoroughly that at first glance she looked like a brunette.

“Is that … Meghan?” Jensen asked weakly.

“Yeah, it’s her,” Jared croaked out.

“Andrea.”

Jared thought the same thing. _If Meghan was infected then Jackie and Andrea are too or they’re dead._

They didn’t see the truck crash but they certainly heard it go off the road and immediately spotted smoke plumes above the tree line.

“We have to help them,” Jared said.

Jensen grabbed him. “No, there’s nothing we can do.”

Jared wanted to argue but he knew Jensen was right. “We can’t just sit here and watch!” he managed to croak out.

“No, we can back track where they came from.”

Jared looked at Jensen. “Then what?”

“See if we can find them.”

Jared didn’t need to be told that ‘them’ meant Jackie and Andrea.

“Okay, let’s go.”

* * *

  
They waited for twenty minutes to see if any infected returned, but they did not. Once they were on the dirt road it was easy to follow the truck’s path. Jared kept looking back, half expecting to see Meghan crest a hill, mouth and fingers caked with blood and viscera. Shuddering at the image, Jared forced himself to focus on the tire tracks.

It wasn’t until they rounded a blind corner that they realized things were worse than either of them ever expected.

“Oh shit,” Jensen said, his voice deep with despair and helplessness.

From the looks of it Valley had been burning for some time. The smoke was blending into the sunless sky, which seemed grimly appropriate when compared to the devastation in front of them.

There were bodies littering the streets but not as many as Jared expected. He wondered if others escaped or had become infected and now roaming about Santos like packs of mad dogs.

“I hope to God people made it out,” Jared said.

“To _where_?” Jensen scoured the scene. He then spotted an all-too familiar landmark. “There,” he said, pointing to a church. “What about there?”

Jared thought the idea was medieval, which meant it made perfect sense. When people were in full throttle panic, they tend to revert to the basest of thoughts and needs.

“Be careful,” Jared cautioned.

“Damn right.”

They approached the building slowly, making sure they weren’t being hunted themselves. To their dismay the front door was unlocked. And the broken pews and scattered chairs told them the church had recent visitors who had zero capability to appreciate the religious significance of the building they’d entered.

“Don’t touch anything,” Jared said, eyeing the blood splatters on the walls.

“Yeah, got that,” Jensen answered. He silently approached the back of the church; his body turned sideways so that at a moment’s notice, he could bolt the other way.

Jared followed him as Jensen opened a door behind the altar. It led down a flight of stairs. There were pictures nailed on the wall and none of them were disturbed.

“They didn’t come through here,” Jensen said.

Jared closed the door behind them as they went down to the basement. The lights were on so it took them only a moment to realize it was even more spacious than the floor above. And stuffed to the ceiling with broken furniture, boxes, and other accumulated debris.

Jensen went around the basement. “Hello?” he whispered softly. “Is anyone here? We’re here to help.”

There was no reply.

Jared pointed to the plywood wall farthest from them and the door built out of the same flimsy material.

Jensen nodded and they slowly made their way. He tried to open the door and found it locked.

“Hello?” he whispered. “Is anyone there?”

There was a sharp scuffle but no one answered.

“Andrea? Are you there?” Jensen added, leaning closer.

The ensuing noise definitely signaled presence behind the wall.

“They’re gone,” Jensen said. “There was a truck…”

The door opened only few inches and a frightened face peeked out. “Who are you?” the woman whispered.

“We were…”

The door swung wide open before Jared could finish his explanation. Andrea exploded out of the room, her face dirty and pale. Jared embraced her fiercely while she bawled loud enough to be heard upstairs.

“What happened?” Jensen asked the woman accompanying Andrea.

“I was at home when she and two women named Jackie and Meghan came along. They were in trouble. Meghan was … she was sick and Jackie didn’t want to leave her. They wanted me to take care of Andrea. I wasn’t sure but she was a child so … so I said yes.”

“What happened to Meghan and Jackie?”

“They went away,” the woman answered tearfully. “Andrea was in a bad way but she wasn’t sick. I fed her and we were watching _Wall-E_ when … when the attack came.”

“How did it happen?” Jensen prodded gently.

“I heard couple of explosions right outside my house. I looked out the window and saw flames. A lot of houses here have gas for their backup generators and I thought one of those went up.

“Then I heard screams.”

Andrea hiccupped. “A lot of people were screaming. Even daddies. I got so scared.”

“Yes, it was when I heard … I heard men screaming that I realized how dangerous it really was. I took Andrea and tried to get into the car when I saw … I saw people running towards us. I didn’t understand what I was seeing first but then I spotted Mr. Gideon and Mrs. Harris and they looked terrified.

“I wanted to take off but I realized something was very wrong, so I dragged Andrea back into the house and waited. Then … then…” the woman paused for a long moment. “Then I saw the others. They were only six of them but I saw … I saw Meghan and Ms. Long in the group. They didn’t look human and they moved so fast! Ms. Long has rheumatoid arthritis so I couldn’t understand how she moved like that! I waited until they were gone and sneaked out.”

“Why? Why did you leave the house?” Jared asked.

“Because the fire was spreading,” was the tearful reply. “And the church is separated from rest of Valley by parking lots.”

“So we ran here,” Andrea continued. “And Mrs. Hicks knew about the basement because she’s a beacon.”

“Deacon,” Mrs. Hicks corrected. “I’ve lived in Santos most of my adult life.”

“We have to keep away from the infected people,” Jensen said. “And obviously we can’t stay around here. Not anymore.”

“Because of the pack?” Andrea asked.

“Exactly, because of the pack,” Jensen said tightly.

Jared knew why his friend reacted so badly to Andrea’s question. They had openly classified a group of people –some whom they knew – as animals rather than human.

“Is there someplace we can go?” Jared asked.

“There’s Loony Lucy’s place,” Mrs. Hicks said. “She’s a local character who passed away recently. Her son died in a traffic accident few months ago and that was enough for her. Her place hadn’t been touched since.”

“Why can’t we stay where you are?” Andrea asked.

“Because of the fire, sweetie,” Jared answered. “It’s spreading and unless we get rain – the house we’re staying in is going to burn down too.”

“Let us go up first,” Jensen volunteered. “When the coast is clear, you guys can follow. But wait, okay?”

Andrea nodded and buried her face in Mrs. Hick’s comfortable sweater. Jared and Jensen cautiously made their way upstairs. They were greeted with thick smoke wafting into the church.

“The fire’s completely out of control,” Jensen said.

Jared saw the flames reaching over treetops and realized the parking lots surrounding the church might not be enough of a barrier.

“We have to get out of here,” Jared ran to the basement entrance and hollered, “Guys, we have to move, fast!”

Andrea and Mrs. Hicks ran upstairs. Mrs. Hicks gasped when she saw the thick smoke now hazing up the interior of the church. She pointed to a door and said, “There’s a footpath away from Valley. I can tell you where to go from there.”

The group quickly made way through the empty parking lot. Jared felt his heart pounding against his chest, threatening to make him faint, but he managed to keep his head by focusing on Andrea in front of him.

They reached their temporary shelter and found its neighbor to the right smoking.

“Shit,” Jensen hissed. “We have to move fast.”

They bolted inside. Jared and Jensen packed their belongings while Mrs. Hicks and Andrea shoved all the food into garbage bags. By the time they came out, the smoking house next door was in flames.

Mrs. Hicks once again took the lead and quickly led them away from the development and back into the woods.

“Do we need to stop anyplace else?” Jared asked, relieved to be rid of the smoke and the heat licking his skin.

“No,” Mrs. Hicks answered quietly, “I think Lucy’s place still has running water.”

That was the end of any conversation as she led them farther away from Valley and to the northeastern coast. As they hiked the residue of the town with its docks and sparse housing faded away until there was nothing but trees.

They walked for over an hour when Mrs. Hicks abruptly veered off the path and started taking another one that ran parallel to the coast. She led them down a steep hill and to a ramshackle house with equally dilapidated barn-like structure in the back.

Jensen went ahead and searched the cottage before giving the okay for the rest to follow. Jared looked around at the stacks of papers, magazines, empty cartons that turned the rooms into potentially lethal mazes.

_Loony Lucy is about right. Jesus, what is this? Schizophrenia? Dementia? All of the above?_

“There’s a room in the back that’s clean. Actually, it must belong to someone else because it’s nothing like the rest of the house,” Jensen said, wrinkling his nose at the sour and musty smell.

“That would be her son’s,” Mrs. Hicks supplied. “He was a scientist of sorts and when his mother got bad, he moved back here. I talked to him couple of times but didn’t get to know him much. He was very retiring.”

When Jared entered the clean bedroom he expected to feel relieved. But the jarring discrepancy between this room and the rest of the house was actually more upsetting. It was as if he was entering from one type of madness to another, and his preference fell on the chaos rather than this bedroom’s sterility.

He looked at Jensen and saw his friend felt the same way. The wary, distrustful look in Jensen’s eyes along with the corner of the mouth turned down – all pointed to him being upset.

“What is this?” Jensen asked.

Mrs. Hicks looked around. “It’s a neat room.”

“A little bit too neat,” Jared said.

“Wouldn’t you be if you were surrounded by that?” Mrs. Hicks asked, pointing to the hallway and its clutter.

Neither Jensen nor Jared answered, but they knew the hyper-neatness on display was just another facet of the same mental problem outside the bedroom.

“Jared?” Andrea asked nervously.

“Yes? What is it?”

“I have to go to the bathroom but I don’t … I mean…”

“I have to go too,” Jared confessed. “Why don’t we take turns?”

He knew only too well what Andrea was really asking. She didn’t want to be alone; not when the madness was out there, willing to tear apart any victim caught unawares.

He escorted Andrea to the bathroom and waited outside. Even though he had no need to go, Jared pretended to do so by turning on the faucet. To his delight he found the water running.

They returned to discover the bedroom had been transformed with multiple sleeping arrangements.

“Take a look at what provisions we’ve brought and what’s here,” Jensen said, pointing at the food bags.

“The water’s running,” Jared said. “I think it’s coming from the property itself. It didn’t taste like regular tap water.”

“Good, less chance of contamination,” Jensen said. “I want to go out in the back and see what else is there.”

“You want company?” Jared asked.

Jensen shook his head reluctantly. Jared knew why Jensen said no even though he wanted to say otherwise. Jared could feel the fear vibrating off of Hicks and Andrea.

“Okay,” Jared said. “You know what to do.”

“I most certainly do.”

Jared wanted to follow Jensen and watch him from the house but he did not. Instead, he forced himself to be useful.

“Let’s make some room in the kitchen,” Jared said. “The last thing we need is for this place to go up in flames too.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Mrs. Hicks said.

They worked to clear the kitchen of the stacks of newspapers and magazines.

“What’s your name by the way?” Mrs. Hicks asked as she shoveled a heap of yellowed _Tacoma Tribune_ out of the room. “You look familiar to me.”

“He’s a famous actor!” Andrea chirped.

The woman’s head snapped up so fast Jared thought he could hear her spine crackle.

“I work on television,” Jared said.

“Oh my God, _Gilmore Girls_ ,” Mrs. Hicks said, her eyes wide. “I loved that show.”

“He’s a kickass ghost hunter now,” Andrea said with inordinate pride. “Both him and Jensen.”

“Oh, that’s why I didn’t recognize you faster,” she said. “I can’t stand scary programs.”

Jared raised his eyebrows and stared out the window.

Mrs. Hicks gave a frustrated sigh. “Maybe I should have watched a few. I could’ve picked up some useful tips for what’s been happening.”

Jared smiled. “By the way name’s Jared Padalecki.”

“Emily Hicks, and we are so grateful you came to find us. My God, that took some courage!”

Jared said nothing. Faced with such gratitude, he was ashamed of his cowardice, his fears, and most of all - his reluctance.

“So, how did you get here? Santos is popular but only with natives or long-time mainland vacationers.”

Jared took a deep breath and mentally whispered his gratitude to Andrea and Meghan: they had stuck to their guns and kept silent about what had happened to them. “We came on a ferry.”

Emily frowned. “Really? I don’t remember the ferry docking today. But then, I hadn’t gone outside since yesterday.”

“Who was this woman, exactly?” Jared asked, picking up stacks of _Science Genetics_ magazines.

“Loony Lucy … sorry, Lucy Compton was a local character. She was fine until her husband, Isaac, died. That was in the eighties. It took a long time for her to unravel but she did eventually.”

“How did he die?”

“Brutally,” Emily answered. “He got hit by a truck that was disembarking from a ferry. Ended up being pinned against a wall. The driver panicked and hit the gas while in reverse. Isaac was almost cut in half.”

Jared winced. “That could take someone around the bend.”

“By the time she started losing it her son had been out of the house for years. He sent money to her, and when she couldn’t handle her finances, he sent it to Pastor Leigh who took care of her.

“Then things soured for him too. He lost his job, got divorced. But then found a new position and moved out here. I saw him sometimes commuting to work on the ferry. He was killed in a car accident few weeks ago. Got into a crash with a UPS or a FedEx truck, I’m not sure. It took Lucy less than two weeks to follow him.”

“What was she diagnosed with?”

“I never found out,” Emily looked around the room and added, “but whatever it was, it had to be bad.”

“Let’s move that stack out of the kitchen,” Jared said, pointing at a mound of _National Geographic_ almost reaching the ceiling. “Do you think you could handle it?”

“Just point whatever you need cleaned out of here” Emily said.

“Yeah, just point,” Andrea echoed.

Jared was glad there was busy work. He knew by experience that boredom was the easiest path for fear to take control of one’s psyche. The last thing they needed was to sit and think nothing but the horrible things that happened so far.

As Jared moved the stacks he realized the science-related ones belonged to the son and not the mother. The address labels told him as much. And yet, they were mixed in with _National Geographic_ and other ancient magazines. All this confirmed Jared’s suspicion that the son had a lot more common with his mother than just blood.

_He either let his mother take these or he made some of these stacks himself._

Jared would guess the latter.

“This is just horrible,” Emily said.

“It is,” Jared agreed absently.

“I mean, leg warmers during July?”

Jared looked up to see Emily flipping through old _Vanity Fair_ magazines. He couldn’t stop a small grin from appearing. “Anything else interesting?”

Emily flinched a little before blushing. “Sorry, I get easily distracted.”

She busied herself even though Jared could see her curiosity was killing her. He never got why fashion magazines were so popular. They were like some output from demented photographer high on black tar heroin. And most of it was just plain, glossy shit.

Heaven knows he’d posed for his share, but Jared was glad he wasn’t asked to do more than the few he’d been bamboozled into. Rubbing shit all on his face and body, posing for something he didn’t have a clue about – it all struck false. Acting itself was a pantomime of real life, but there was an echo and if the material was really good – a passable copy of the priceless threads that hold the moments of life together.

After twenty minutes the kitchen itself looked halfway normal, though Jared still loathed the idea of eating in it.

“I can’t believe she could cook anything in here,” Emily said.

Jared ran an index finger around the burners. He lifted it to show there was very little grease. “She didn’t.”

“She probably barbequed,” Emily said though her tone of voice revealed doubts about her own statement.

“And live out of cans during the cold months,” Jared said, checking the still-loaded pantry. “I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“We all are,” Emily said firmly.

Andrea pushed herself forward and examined the canned goods. “Pineapples!”

Jared smiled at her enthusiasm. He was always amazed by children’s ability to enjoy the little things.

“We can have it for dessert, after dinner if you like,” Emily said kindly.

Andrea nodded eagerly. “That’d be great!”

The kitchen door opened, startling all of them and dissipating the good mood.

“The barn’s filled with bikes,” Jensen said. “And I found the well. It’s pretty damn deep. I hid it with some brush, just in case.”

“Did you see anything?” Emily asked.

Jensen shook his head. “The fire’s burning pretty hot.”

“Where’s it headed?” Jared asked.

“Towards west,” Jensen answered. “The wind is blowing in that direction. Hopefully the sky will crack soon and the rain will take care of it.”

“Why don’t you guys get some rest,” Jared said. “When the sun goes down we have to take shifts.”

“Of course,” Emily said. She marshaled Andrea with her.

Jared waited until he heard the bedroom door close before asking what he really wanted. He knew Jensen only too well and spotted the lie as soon as it fell from Jensen’s lips.

“What _did_ you see?” Jared asked softly.

“Not saw, exactly,” Jensen answered in an exhausted tone. “More like heard.”

“What did you hear?”

“Screaming,” Jensen answered. “Like … like …” Jensen faltered and rubbed his face. “It sounded like hell was eating up people but skinning them first.”

Jared winced at the imagery. “Do you think they’re infected? Or…” he didn’t want to finish that sentence.

“At this point, all I can say is I hope so. At least they’re completely out of their minds. But to make a normal person scream like that … I don’t want to know what could do that.”

Jared rummaged through the pantry until he found the bottle of cooking sherry he caught sight of earlier. “Here, take a sip.”

Jensen did without a word. Jared took the bottle and put it back. “How safe are we, really?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen said. “I don’t think the fire will reach us here. But we have to keep moving if the infected people are running around the way they were doing earlier.”

“Because they’re acting like a pack,” Jared concluded.

“Yeah, and that’s pretty fucking scary. We won’t have any chance of surviving an attack from something like that.”

“And on the good news front?” Jared asked with a watery smile.

“They could continue to go crazier, I guess, and turn on each other.”

“And kill each other off, leaving the uninfected alive and traumatized for ten lifetimes.”

“Just about,” Jensen said. “But I think we still have to keep mobile.”

“Maybe we should get a car.”

Jensen shook his head. “No, remember the ambulance in Seattle? How it was quiet? I’m thinking loud noises might attract attention we don’t want.”

“How about the bikes out back?”

Jensen grimaced. “Yeah, that came to mind. But did you see Emily’s feet?”

Jared frowned as he tried to remember. After a while he had to shake his head.

“Something’s wrong with it. Her shoes are different. The right one’s at least a size bigger and its heel is way thicker.

“She might be able to bike some of the way. But if we’re caught out, then what?”

Jared could very well imagine what: Emily would be left behind. “Okay,” he said. “So we move on foot?”

“Yeah, and that way we could use other paths. With bikes, we’d need to use paved ones.”

Jared blew out a huff of breath. “Jesus, and I thought coming to this place was a good idea.”

“We both did,” Jensen said firmly. “And neither of us had any fucking clue how hard it would be to get _off_ the goddamn island if we needed to.”

“Remember the docks?” Jared offered. “We could try to grab a boat…”

“And be blown to bits?”

Jared closed his eyes. “Shit, I forgot about that.”

“But if we stick to the coastline maybe we’ll be safe.” Jensen glanced at Jared. “Do you know anything about boats?”

“Some,” Jared answered. “Depends on the boat.”

“That’s more than what I can do. I could pull up an anchor, maybe. Otherwise, I’m completely hopeless.”

Jared looked down the hallway. “What do you think about Andrea?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen replied truthfully.

“Do you think she’s infected?”

“If she is, we’re all fucked.” Jensen shook his head. “Have to wonder what happened to Jackie.”

Jared remembered the conflagration currently spreading through the town. Even though he suspected his prayers would fall on deaf ears, Jared nevertheless sent one in the hopes that Jackie’s death was both quick and painless.

“Do you want to check out the town later? After the fire dies down?” Jared asked.

“Maybe during dusk or twilight,” Jensen said. “But I hate the idea of leaving them behind.”

Jared shuddered at the thought of what could happen to Andrea and Emily if the infected discovered them. For a moment Jared felt resentment. Neither he nor Jensen asked for this. They could barely protect themselves much less a woman and child.

As expected, shame quickly followed. Then exhaustion. Jared was quickly becoming tired of this particular cycle. “Why don’t we go out for a little while anyway?” he said. “Look, we need to clear our heads too.”

“I wonder … where do they go? The sick? Do they just collapse somewhere? Or do they sleep?”

Jared had to think about what Jensen said. “Because if they collapse, then they’re out. But if they’re asleep, then they can be awakened.”

“Yeah, I’d rather that they be out cold if we have to go out.”

“Either way we should check around the property, just to make sure we don’t get any visitors during the night.”

“Okay.”

* * *

  
“You’re going out?” Andrea asked, looking anxiously at the dying sun. “Why?”

Emily looked equally concerned but calmly said, “They’re going to see if there are other people who need help, like us.”

Andrea’s eyes watered immediately. “I don’t want you to go!” she wailed. “I don’t want them to go away ‘cause they won’t come back!”

“Oh honey,” Jared said as he took Andrea in his arms. “Sweetheart, we’re not going far. Okay?”

Andrea kept on crying but said nothing else; her grip on Jared didn’t lessen for at least few minutes. Only after handing Andrea over to Emily could Jared leave. And he wanted to leave.

The keening noises Andrea made were driving iron stakes into his mind and propelling him out of the house. The madness that had so thoroughly permeated the shack was slowly creeping into his blood and psyche in ways he couldn’t stop.

So, the moment the briny air hit his face, Jared took a deep breath. In fact, he ended up panting like an animal as he followed Jensen.

As soon as they hit the beach Jensen pulled him aside. “Dude, what are you doing? Are you going to keel over?”

“No, it’s that house, I hate it,” Jared said. “It’s like living in a lunatic asylum. And the son? I think he’s as crazy as his mother. He was just better at hiding it.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jared explained all the suspicions he sorted out earlier. As he spoke, Jared felt they were ever more realistic and not based on nameless fears. And from the look on Jensen’s face, Jared knew he was convinced.

“Okay, but that can’t drive us away,” Jensen said. “The truth is it makes the house safer.”

“Why?”

“If the locals think it’s a nut house, then they’ll stay away. And if the infected have any kind of memory left, then they’ll think the same thing.”

“Unless they’re completely out of their fucking minds,” Jared countered. “But the first part – yeah, that makes sense.

“So we stay?”

“Until we find a safer haven,” Jensen said soothingly.

“Okay.”

They scoured the beach before climbing a hill to see the destruction wrought by the fire. It was burning farther west and away from them, but the blackened swath of land and property told of incredible devastation.

“It’s the dry season,” Jensen said. “Even here, in rain central, it can become lethal.”

Something about Jensen’s off-handed comment made Jared frown. A memory brushed against his mind but it was too weak to hold onto. And being so tired, Jared decided not to struggle.

Instead, he followed Jensen and focused his attention on searching for intruder on the property. Luckily, there were none to be found.

As they approached the house, Jared once again felt the sickness leach onto him.

“Hey,” he said. “Why don’t I take first shift? You have to be exhausted by now.”

It was proof of Jensen’s friendship that he said, “Yeah, thanks,” and nothing else when Jared didn’t enter the house, opting to sit on the back porch instead. Not a minute later, rain began falling.

Jared began to calm down as the rain began washing the day away. He knew he should feel nervous, as he was more exposed sitting outside, and yet he felt very little threat.

 _I wonder if I snapped_ , Jared thought as he studied the night sky. _Or maybe I just can’t think straight anymore. But then … then I’m just a big a liability as Andrea or Emily._

Jared pushed the knuckles against his lips hard enough to cut the inside of his mouth against his teeth. With the tang of blood still lingering on his tongue, Jared walked into the house.

Using just the moonlight Jared began reading a book with big print. To his chagrin, he found that crazy as Loony Lucy might have been, she had good taste when it came to medical thrillers. The next time he looked at his watch, it was one in the morning.

Jared quietly made his way back and found Jensen asleep, laid out in front of the bedroom door like a slumbering guard dog. He had to stop then, as his heart suddenly clenched painfully.

He wanted to lean over and brush his lips against Jensen’s forehead. Something he allowed himself to do that only once: when Jensen came down with incipient pneumonia, an inevitable result after a week’s worth of shooting in the pouring rain.

Jared remembered losing his temper when Jensen insisted coming to work even though he was alarmingly pale and possessing a fever. He’d corralled his friend back into bed before calling for a doctor’s appointment. Jensen had fallen asleep during the drive to the clinic and leaned on Jared who slung a dedicated arm around his friend to keep him from tipping over.

Without meaning to and maybe out of habit, Jared leaned down and gave a light kiss on the sweaty and clammy forehead. By all rights he should’ve freaked out afterwards but Jared didn’t. Mainly because he didn’t give much thought to it. He’d had brushes of this kind before and always managed to quash them before things spun out of control. Or before he thought of them so much that they transform into obsessive circles.

So, the kiss didn’t mean much and since nobody else witnessed it, it didn’t really happen.

But now, after two days’ worth of mind-shattering trauma, Jared had neither the inclination nor the mental strength to delude himself any further.

 _It’s Jensen_ , Jared admitted to himself. _I’ve always known I could feel something for guys but why do anything about it when all it does is to complicate things?_

He looked down at the sleeping figure, unaware his hands curling into fists. Without a word, he leaned over to brush his fingers against his friend’s face when Jensen asked, “What’s up?”

“Your turn,” Jared managed to answer, snatching away his greedy fingers.

Something in his tone made Jensen sit up quickly. “Everything okay?”

Jared swallowed the words he so desperately wanted to say and instead smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess my mind ran away with everything that’s been going on.”

Jensen rubbed his eyes in such a childlike manner that Jared’s smile turned genuine.

“Yeah, that’s not good,” Jensen said. “Don’t want your brain to chase itself like a dog does with its tail.”

“I think there’s some Coke in the pantry. I know you hate warm soda but something’s better than nothing.”

“Amen to that.” Jensen got up and opened the door he was guarding. He peeked in for a long while before closing the door. “They’re asleep.”

“Thank God,” Jared said. “Though I don’t know what kind of dreams Andrea’s having, with all that’s happened to her.”

“Let’s hope she’s exhausted then,” Jensen said, tucking his feet into his foots. “That way she has a chance of having no dreams or at least not remembering them when she wakes up.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jared snuggled into the bedding Jensen had made. “Don’t wake up Emily. Get me instead, okay?”

“Done.”

Jared forced himself to close his eyes in order not to watch Jensen walk away. But he couldn’t stop himself from listening to his friend’s boots clump about the house. Nor could he prevent himself from taking comfort in the familiar steps.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

Jared startled himself awake. For a moment his disorientation pushed him into a panicked state, but it didn’t last when he realized where he was.

The thin sunlight made Jared check his watch. It wasn’t even five but felt a lot later for the exhausted survivor. Blearily accepting the fact that any more sleep would be impossible, Jared set off to find Jensen. The moment he entered the kitchen he knew Jensen had to be nearby: the smell of fresh coffee filled the room.

_The world’s ending but Jensen can be trusted to make coffee_.

Jared poured himself a small cup and looked out the window. He didn’t see Jensen. So he made his way to the living room and took a peek at the front of the property.

Jensen was nowhere to be found.

Jared didn’t need coffee anymore to wake him.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jared hissed as he laced up his boots. He studied the barn for a moment before stepping out. He checked the ramshackle structure, fervently hoping he’d find Jensen in it.

It was crammed with detritus of many lives but Jensen was not inside.

Having no choice, Jared began earnestly looking for his missing friend. It wasn’t until he was at the tree line that he saw familiar boot prints pointing towards the steep cutaway leading to the beach.

When Jared reached the crest, he realized why Jensen had left his post.

“Oh my God…” Jared choked out. He froze for a moment before making his way down the steep cliff path, not really paying attention to where he was stepping as the carnage below made hostage of his attention.

Jensen was standing at the base of the cliff, staring at the bodies being washed ashore. Jared counted at least twenty corpses before giving up.

“What the hell…” Jared said breathlessly when he reached Jensen. “Who are they?”

“I think some of them were sick,” Jensen said in a high, thin voice. “But the others? I didn’t touch the bodies but I saw wounds.”

“How did they get here?”

“I’m guessing the currents brought them here.”

“But how did they…”

“They were running away from the fire,” Jensen said. “Or at least I think that was what happened.”

Jared’s vivid imagination painted that scene. Fire would trigger fight or flight response, and add to that being chased by the infected – the panicked citizens of Santos would’ve risked going into the frigid water to escape.

“The currents must have been too much,” Jensen said. “We both know how strong they are.

“I found Jackie.”

Jared dropped his head as a sob escaped from him.

“She didn’t look infected,” Jensen continued in a didactic tone. “She … she survived the ferry being blown up, managed to get to the island only to be … _fuck_.”

Jared couldn’t stand anymore. He collapsed onto the sand and cupped his face in his hands. He cried quietly and leaned into Jensen’s cradling arms when he felt them wrap around his shoulders.

After a while, Jared managed to calm down. He wiped off his face best he could but the moment he caught sight the bodies on the beach, Jared felt tears threaten to overwhelm him once more.

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Just about,” Jensen said as he released Jared from his embrace. “We can’t bury everyone but I think Jackie deserves something.”

Jared felt his stomach roil at the thought of touching the body of someone he knew, if only briefly. “Okay,” he said. “But how?”

“We’ll go back up and find a bed sheet. It’s the only way we can handle her body.”

Jared looked at Jensen, frowning.

“She’s been in the water for a while,” Jensen explained reluctantly. “It’s … it makes everything harder.”

Jared managed a single nod as his answer.

They quickly made their way back up the cliff, needing relief from the horror slashing the beach below. Both Emily and Andrea were still asleep and not wanting to bother them, they took two sheets from the hallway linen closet and made their way back.

Jensen had to lead Jared to Jackie’s body as its condition made her unrecognizable. They gingerly place the corpse in the sheets and rolled it around her until she was tightly cocooned. Jensen chose a cave at the far left of the beach. It was deep enough to be safe from tidal reach and looked to be unoccupied by any animals.

They placed her at the farthest point from the entrance. Then, Jared scratched out her name on a piece of rock and placed it at her feet. That was about as much as Jared could stand. He was briskly walking away from the cave when he realized that Jensen wasn’t standing next to him.

He turned around to see Jensen pissing at the entrance of the cave.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, shocked.

“Animals won’t like the scent and stay away,” Jensen said as he zipped himself up. “Or at least that’s what I heard. For all I know it could be an urban legend.”

Jared couldn’t say anything so instead he kept on walking.

Both Andrea and Emily were awake and munching on dry cereal when they returned. From the way Andrea was eating, Jared knew she had a restless night.

He sat on the stool next to her and elbowed the girl. “Hey, how was your night? Mine was stinky.”

Andrea’s spoon hovered in mid-air as the girl digested what he said. “Stinky?”

“Yeah, when I went to sleep, I found out Jensen farted in my sleeping bag. So not cool.”

Andrea didn’t laugh but the smile on her face was both genuine and wide. Encouraged by her reaction, Jared continued to prattle on endlessly, anything inconsequential. Not only to cheer up the child but also to distance himself from the memory of what he was forced to do only minutes before.

* * *

  
After breakfast was cleared, Jensen declared he needed thirty minutes for a quick nap. Jared agreed, understanding his friend desire for some down time.

He watched Jensen trudge down the darkened hallway and once again felt the ferocious tug in his heart. The semi-sweet feeling didn’t last long when he heard Emily whisper, “Something’s wrong.”

He found her standing near a window, peeking outside. Jared joined her and saw immediately what had caught her attention. The tall bushes to the left of the house were shuddering, as if a large animal was passing through.

“Oh shit,” he said as a buck came into view. “Don’t make sudden moves. I know we’re inside a house but if that thing’s infected like the dog…”

Emily slowly took two steps back and that was enough to attract the deer’s attention. Its gaze zeroed in on the narrow window where she was still plainly visible. Jared didn’t even have time to yell. The animal charged towards them, its bellows so loud, it sounded like it was already inside the house.

Jared yanked Emily to the side and scrambled out of the way as the buck threw itself; its head and antlers completely penetrating the window.

The glass panes shattered into deadly shards, most of which embedded themselves into the animal. But if they caused any pain, the deranged creature didn’t show it. Instead, it vainly tried to free itself while relentlessly forcing its way in.

Jared knew only minutes passed but it felt like hours as he watched the trapped deer struggle to its death. Then, without warning, Jensen charged the creature with a bat he must have found earlier. With two swift swings, he smashed the deer’s skull.

The juicy, crackling thuds reverberated in the room almost as long as the creature’s agonizing wails did.

The silence that followed seemed as equally horrific as the din that dominated the room only seconds before.

Another noise entered the room and this one was just as distressing because Jared recognized it: sound of a child crying. He turned to see Andrea standing in the hallway, sobbing into her hands.

“Oh sweetie,” he said as he took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want this,” Andrea said between her fingers. “I want to go home. I want my mommy. I want Delphie. I want my school.”

If she were actually complaining Jared would’ve been able to deal with her outburst. But he knew what she was so desperately yearning for: her childhood.

_And she deserves it_ , Jared thought as he rocked Andrea in his arms. _Every kid deserves a normal, sane childhood._

This time there was nothing glib for him to say so he continued to hold her until Andrea wrung out the hysteria from her bones. Jared then placed her in Emily’s care in order to help Jensen remove the deer from its deathtrap.

“We have to dump it far away from here,” Jensen said between huge huffs of air. It was impossible for them to carry the creature as it was too large. So, they resorted to rolling the carcass across the backyard.

“Okay,” Jared said breathlessly, wiping sweat from his face. “You’ve got your reasons?”

“Blood’s going to attract other animals, and they might be,” Jensen leaned down and rested his hands on his knees while breathing deeply, “as crazy as this one is. The last thing we want is a pack of coyotes or worse coming around.”

“Wait a minute,” Jared paused as he looked back at the blood trail they’ve left behind. “What about the infected people? Could they do the same thing?”

Jensen paled at that. “Maybe. We should hose down the house and board up the window, just in case.”

“I remember there was some Clorox in the mudroom,” Jared volunteered. “We could use that.”

“Good plan, good plan.”

They managed to toss the carcass over the steepest part of the cliff, far away from the bodies now being reclaimed by the rising tide.

“I really hope it’s old enough to be without its mom,” Jared said.

Jensen looked at him. “What?”

“It’s big but I’m not sure if it’s old enough to be on its own,” Jared explained. “So, if the doe’s still around…”

“She’s going to be pissed. And sick as hell if the buck’s anything to go by.”

The two silently ran back to the house and dug up a hose which was still connected to an outdoor spout. Jared didn’t have to look at Jensen to know he was feeling relief as harsh water spray jettisoned from the hose.

Jensen started washing the blood off the walkway while Jared ran into the house to get the bleach. He doused the entire area while Jensen meticulously washed away the blood from the window, the wall, and the porch.

Jared then liberally sprinkled whatever bleach they had left on the path they’d used to take out the deer.

Andrea was in the house, completely engrossed in the trashy novel Emily had found. It wasn’t Dr. Seuss, but more than entertaining enough for Andrea not to look out the windows.

“We need something to board up the window,” Jensen said.

The three adults immediately scrambled to find hardware and spare boards but came up with nothing useful.

“Is there any room that we didn’t look in?” Jensen asked.

“The basement,” Jared said. “If this place has one.”

“It does,” Emily said. She pointed to a door in the hallway. Jared found an old one-string switch that revealed a single light bulb whose power was robbed due to a coating of dust. They slowly made their way downstairs and found themselves in a crowded and dimly-lit room. Jared kicked the dirt on the floor.

“This house is old,” he said and took a deep sniff. The air was perfumed with mold, dust, and the sweet scent of decay, making Jared look around the room for a dead rodent or even a raccoon.

“This is weird,” Jensen said. “This room is like half of what’s upstairs.”

“Could be the foundation,” Emily guessed. “The builders could’ve fortified it, especially since it’s located near a cliff.”

Jensen found a rusted can of nails and Jared found an old but solid oak door. He hefted its weight around. “It’s good. We could use…”

He then slowly looked up. The noise that had attracted his attention was stealthy but consistent, which meant it was manmade.

Jensen gave a nod of recognition and that was all Jared needed. He led Emily to a dark corner and motioned for her to stay. Then he and Jensen went upstairs, quietly. It was at trick they’d learned while shooting on sets made of flimsy material.

Jensen went first and Jared followed. They didn’t see anyone, which meant they were successful in not attracting the attention of whoever had invaded their house.

Jared took a cutting knife from the sink while Jensen grabbed the bat he’d used earlier.

Andrea’s scream destroyed whatever plan they had. Jensen charged down the hall first, and swung the moment an unfamiliar shape appeared.

“Jesus Christ!” the stranger screamed as the bat made meaty contact with his forearms. “Don’t! Don’t!”

Jensen didn’t swing again but he positioned the bat inches away from the man’s sweaty face. “Why are you here?”

“Because…” he got a good look at Jared holding a knife and went paler. “We were looking for a place to hide and I remembered Loony Lucy’s shack.”

Jensen saw another, much younger man in the back, only two feet away from Andrea who had scrambled to the corner of the bedroom with her book raised in front of her like a shield.

“And you?” Jensen asked tersely.

“I … I … fell off the chopper,” the man said in a tired voice.

“Chopper?” Jared echoed, confused by the stranger’s explanation. Then his eyes widened. He examined the clothes the man was wearing and noted how ill fitting they were. “You fuck, you were one of those assholes who blew us up!”

The man looked too tired to argue or even try to explain himself. “Yeah, but I wasn’t … I mean we didn’t shoot at anyone. We … look, nobody told us what was going to happen. All we were told to do was to follow the ferry, I swear.”

“And when you saw it blown to pieces by your buddies,” Jensen said as he lowered the bat while raising his voice, “while you watched people burn to death and drown all around the boat - what did you do? Nothing, right?”

The soldier’s face suddenly crumpled, making everyone realize he was little older than a boy. “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t know, nobody in my bird knew what was going to happen. We weren’t told anything and Mike - he’s the pilot - he was screaming for them to stop. I … I think I leaned down to grab someone when we did a swoop and that was when I fell.”

Jared managed to leash his anger but Jensen remained steadfast to his fury. “Are you armed?”

Both men shook their heads. “My house burned down…” the older man tried to explain but Emily cut him off harshly.

“Better introduce yourself, Syd.”

“Sorry, sorry, my name’s Syd Morgan. I found David here on the beach. I thought he was dead at first but then he woke up.”

“And you took him in?” Emily’s tone was brimming with sarcasm. “Because you’re such a humanitarian.”

Syd visibly flinched and opened his mouth but no words came forth. Instead, he stepped back, looking mulishly. Jared was strongly reminded of Peter.

“What’s this about?” the soldier asked. “He’s been good to me.”

“Son, I don’t know how old you are but I can tell you, you could keep much better company with a murder of crows than with Syd over here.”

“That’s not fair!” Syd finally yelled. “I never did anything to you, you nosy old bitch.”

Emily gave a deprecating smile and raised her hand towards Andrea. “Come here, sweetie. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

Just the mention of the word ‘kitchen’ made the soldier’s stomach rumble loudly. Emily studied him for a while before saying, “Come, you look like you could use something.”

Jensen and Jared parted, allowing the soldier and Andrea to leave, but Syd remained boxed in. Realizing his precarious situation, the man protested:

“Hey, I didn’t do anything.”

“And let’s keep it that way,” Jensen said.

Jared didn’t bother to say anything. Instead, he stared unblinkingly at Syd until the man looked away.

“Shit, we’ve got trouble,” Jared whispered under his breath the moment they were out of the room.

“I know but it’s too late to do anything,” Jensen replied. “Best to keep an eye on him.”

Jared gave a grunt of assent but managed to plaster a small friendly smile when they entered the kitchen. Andrea looked in amazement as the soldier hoovered the modest amount of food in front of him with lightening speed.

Emily, on the other hand, looked at him with fondness that told Jared she had either sons or nephews.

“What’s your name?” Jensen asked as the soldier finished his meal.

The guy blushed furiously. “Sorry, should’ve introduced myself earlier. Specialist David Spera. From Boise.”

“You’re in the Army?”

The soldier paused but then blew out a huff of breath. “Yeah, and believe it or not I’m like the fucking mechanic on the ass end of whatever unit I’m assigned to. Seriously, I jumped when they offered me a transfer to … well, the unit I was assigned to until I took a fucking nosedive.”

“David,” Jensen said, “I don’t know if you get this or not, but they left you behind. The moment you fell off the chopper you were dead to them. So, any loyalty you have towards your _people_ is pretty much useless.”

David’s face flushed with anger but didn’t protest Jensen’s summation.

“Did they really tell you nothing about what they were planning to do?” Jared asked, seamlessly slipping into Sam’s persona of the good cop.

David immediate answered, “No, no fucking way Mike would’ve gone through with it: not even if God ordered him. He would never have flown that copter if he’d known what they were planning to do. Hell, I know at least half the crew would’ve taken guns to their kneecaps in order to get out of it.”

“So, you were shadowing us, then?” Jensen asked.

“Yeah, we were told there was a ferry that left Seattle after the quarantine was set. And that we had to follow the boat to see where it went. I think Mike found out you were heading to Santos like a minute before … before the airstrike.”

“When did the quarantine come down, exactly?”

“Hours before; in the morning, actually.”

Jared paled. There was nothing in the news of such a thing being brought down on Seattle. Not on the television or the radio.

“Why weren’t we told?” Jensen asked.

“What do you mean?” David looked confused by Jensen’s question.

“We had no idea there was a quarantine,” Jared said cautiously.

David’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? That can’t be right…”

“No, he’s telling the truth,” Emily interrupted heatedly. “I had no idea and I’ve been glued to the television for days now. Hell, I was watching CNN all morning before a pack came through my street, and they weren’t talking about any quarantine.”

David shook his head as he digested what was being told. “I can’t believe it. Why wouldn’t they?”

“They didn’t want panic,” Jensen said. “The moment quarantine became public, people would’ve either barricaded themselves or try to get out.”

“But Seattleites … they’re not exactly the most violent group of people you can think of,” Emily countered. “I mean it’s not like Texas. You’d have to grab three or four blocks before you’d find someone with a gun!”

“I should’ve known something was up. We had to shut down all our online accounts,” David said. “I was ordered not to check Facebook or Twitter when I got this transfer. We were even banned from checking our e-mails.”

Jared turned to Jensen only to see his friend looking back at him.

“No, Seattleites aren’t violent in that sense but they’ve got one powerful fucking weapon: the Internet,” Jared reasoned. “They could declare war from their computers and the government would have a shitty time trying to stop them.”

Jensen nodded in agreement with Jared’s assessment. “Microsoft, Amazon, and dozens of hi-tech companies are all from here. Not to mention the dozens more who work for the defense department.”

Jared nodded, “Yeah, I remember seeing a segment about that on TV.”

“Well, if they all decided to crack their knuckles then they could shut down everything. This country’s entire infrastructure is based on computers nowadays,” Jensen said. “And if the people who helped build that infrastructure decided to … well, tear it apart in protest, then I can’t imagine anybody stopping them. Not even DC.”

“Fuck,” David said. “So no civilian knew about the quarantine.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asked. “If people weren’t told – would they still go outside?”

“They could,” Jared said. “As long as the news don’t say anything then yeah – they could still think it’s safe enough to go to the hospital, if they’re sick or with someone who is.”

“With those crazed lunatics roaming around?” Emily’s voice was suffused with horror and disbelief. “Oh my God…”

“Let’s hope the news had gotten out the other way,” Jensen said.

“What other way?” David asked.

“We were talking to other survivors from the ferry, and they spoke about websites and boards run by people who weren’t so allergic to the truth,” Jared answered. “Some of them were associated with University of Washington.”

“Another group of people you don’t want to piss off,” Emily added.

“But sooner or later they’re going to find out,” Jensen said. “Then what?”

Jared turned to David and asked, “Any ideas?”

“Not a fucking clue,” David answered, “but whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

Andrea chirped up, “So, where’s the Swear Jar?”

David was the first to laugh. Emily quickly followed. Even Jensen gave a grin as tiny as it was. Jared just threw a companionable arm around the little girl and planted a grateful kiss on her hair.

“Wait a minute,” Emily said. “Where’s the scumbag?”

“Syd?” Jensen asked. “Why don’t you like him?”

“The bastard would feed his mother to the crocodiles if it meant he’d get paid. I wouldn’t trust him with a crock of piss.”

“I’ll check on him,” Jared said. He went down the hallway only to find an empty bedroom.

Feeling panic slowly rise, he checked every room to find them unoccupied.

“He’s gone,” Jared said as he reentered the kitchen.

“Oh fuck,” Jensen hissed. “I’ll take outside.”

“I’ll take the basement,” Jared volunteered. “Emily, David, stay with Andrea.”

The young soldier nodded his understanding. He was being left behind with the most important mission: protect his charges.

Jared heard Jensen’s footsteps above him as he made his way down the stairs. But his attention wasn’t so riveted that he didn’t notice the slight movement to his right.

Jared leapt nimbly, allowing the broom handle to pass below him harmlessly.

He landed on the floor and gave a horse kick as soon as he got his balance. Syd crashed against a battered wooden shelf which crumbled under his weight.

Jared heard rushing of footsteps and found David on the top of the stairs, his flashlight aimed directly at him.

“Hey,” Jared said, “I found our resident asshole.”

David neatly tied Syd’s hands behind him before helping Jared haul their prisoner upstairs.

When Syd came to, he found himself bound to an armchair so tightly, he could barely swivel his head. He tested the bonds before shouting, “What the fuck?!”

“My question exactly,” Jensen said in a calm tone. “What were you doing in the basement?”

Syd frowned and said, “I have no fucking…”

Emily appeared in the kitchen, holding a revolver. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

Syd looked at her, the gun, then at Jared. By the time his gaze rested on Jensen, he’d lost all his color.

“I don’t know…” he began weakly.

“It’s still loaded,” Emily interrupted neatly and calmly. “Care to try again, Syd?”

Syd looked around the room and finding no allies, he confessed, “I knew Loony Lucy had a gun.”

“It was her husband who did,” Emily said. “I thought it was an urban legend. Isaac was about as anti-gun as a person could get.”

“Well he wasn’t,” Syd said waspishly. “Before he married that fucking nutjob he used to hunt. But after he married the psycho bitch, he had to put away all his weapons because he was too scared she might do something.”

“Shut up,” David said in a dismissive voice. “What were you going to do once you had the gun?”

Syd’s panic revved to full throttle. He struggled to free himself before tiring out, which didn’t take long.

David looked at Jensen. “Can you leave us alone for a moment?”

Jensen wordlessly herded the others from the kitchen and Jared made sure the door was closed behind them.

“Let’s see what else we can find,” Jared said. “Is there an attic or crawlspace?”

Emily nodded. “I think so.”

Andrea looked semi-eager to go exploring for which Jared was supremely grateful. He knew they were going to be sweating buckets but better that than listening to whatever David was doing to Syd in order to get the truth.

As he expected, the attic was stuffy and was more of a crawlspace. So, he was forced to navigate on his hands and knees.

“Most of this stuff’s just papers,” Jensen said as he flipped through the boxes.

“Same here,” Emily said. “You want to know something strange?”

“What?” Andrea asked, looking quite unsatisfied with the box in front of her.

“All this stuff is old,” Emily said. “They were printed way before Lucy’s son could’ve started reading.”

Jared looked down at the stacks of scientific journals in front of him. “1971 here.”

“1965,” Jensen piped up.

“I got binders,” Andrea volunteered, “and they’re handwritten.”

Jared once more felt that tingle of dread as he took one from Andrea. He flipped through the pages.

“I don’t understand any of this,” he said softly.

“Not surprising, considering her mental state,” Jensen said.

Jared shook his head. “No,” he disagreed, “this stuff isn’t some ravings of a lunatic. It’s clear thinking and … well, good. Not that I’d know much about science.”

“Lucy wasn’t always so out of control,” Emily said. “I moved here after I married my husband, and by that time Lucy was sliding to crazyland, but I heard she was very smart during her younger years and actually worked for some Ivy League university back in the day. That was why nobody was surprised when Tony got a full scholarship to college.”

Jared flipped through more binders. “She was doing viral research.”

Jensen looked over his shoulder and read few lines. “How can you tell?”

“I recognize some of the vocabulary,” Jared answered. “The stuff’s old and probably outdated, but there isn’t a drop of crazy in any of this.”

“Wow,” Jensen said. “Could you imagine what she could’ve done if she didn’t go off the deep end?”

Jared gave a small sigh. “She would’ve done some amazing work.”

David’s voice flowed in from downstairs. “We’re done. Syd’s sleeping.”

Jared was grateful the soldier used the euphemism for Andrea’s sake. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go down,” Jensen said. “We need something to drink.”

Jared was grateful to find the kitchen free of blood, but he knew something had happened. He could still smell Pine Sol in the air.

“What did Syd say?” Jensen asked quietly.

“A lot, he seems to be a religious man,” David answered drily. “He was going to lock us in a room, then take what he needed and split.”

Emily glanced at Andrea who was sipping a small glass of water while studying the scenery out the window. “Asshole,” she said in a soft tone.

“Pretty much,” David said. “He also said something weird. He said the basement shrank.”

“Probably reinforced walls like Emily said,” Jensen dismissed casually.

Jared knew Jensen’s explanation made sense. And considering the condition of the home and its owner, he should’ve accepted it. Nevertheless, he couldn’t escape from the dread that they were missing something.

“I’m going to take a look,” Jared said. “I’ll be right back.”

Jared took the flashlight and went back to the basement, though reluctantly.

_If I ever get another house it’s not going to have an attic or a basement._ He looked around the chaos Syd had created. _He was desperate to find the gun. We must have scared him good and plenty._

He searched through the debris littered on the floor and found nothing of interest and even less importance. Jared was about to go back upstairs when he felt a cold draft around his ankles. He stopped on the stairway and looked down at the floor.

It was only when he kicked aside a bucket that he found what had caught his attention. There was a crack under a moldering bookcase built into the wall and it ran all the way across the bottom. Jared shook it and felt it shift to the right quite easily.

“What the hell?” Jared whispered as he slid aside the bookcase only to face another door complete with a keypad.

His sense of caution immediately overrode his curiosity. Jared ran back upstairs. “Jensen, could you take a look at something?”

Jensen heard the slight tension in Jared’s voice. “Sure.”

They went back to the basement in a casual manner, hoping they didn’t attract any unwanted attention. Jensen saw the door immediately but said nothing until they were downstairs.

“Wow,” Jensen said. “This is freakish.”

Jared examined the door. “I think it’s built to be airtight.”

Jensen slowly grasped the slim metal handle below the keypad and pushed. It swung open, and a gust of frosty air greeted them.

“So, who wants to do the honors?” Jared asked hoarsely.

Jensen took the flashlight from Jared and turned it on. What little they saw made them hesitant to enter the room even more.

“Okay, so Dr. Frankenstein was a boarder here?” Jared piped out, hoping the joke would somehow distill the fear away from the situation.

“Only way to find out,” Jensen said and walked in very slowly. As soon as he crossed the entryway, he must have tripped a sensor because the entire room lit up so brightly, both men had to close their eyes in order not to be blinded.

It took Jared few seconds to adjust to the light.

When he opened his eyes Jared’s confusion multiplied. “What in hell is this?”

They studied the beakers, the numerous equipment that clogged every table space available. The room itself was moderately sized but it looked tiny because of the amount of equipment piled into it.

“I’d say meth factory,” Jensen said, “but I know that can’t be right. Right?”

“No, that’s not right,” Jared said. He studied the equipment further. “Some of this stuff reminds me of Jeff’s lab when he was in med school. He did some internships to pad his CV.”

“Look at this,” Jensen said as he flipped through legal-sized pads.

Jared took one and read it. “I don’t understand any of this…”

“But the handwriting,” Jensen pointed to the scribbles. “Tell me they don’t look familiar.”  
  
Jared’s eyes widened considerably. “Holy shit, Loony Lucy?”

“Maybe, but what are the chances she was lucid enough to do all this?”

“Not a chance in hell…” Jared peered closer to the writing. “But that would mean it was her son. All this was his?”

“Maybe he wanted to continue her work,” Jensen surmised. “But why? I mean … yeah, I could see the son wanting to carry on the family’s legacy but wouldn’t you want to do it in a real lab?”

“So, there was something about his work he didn’t want to make public.”

“Jared?” Jensen said in a funny, hitched voice. “Didn’t you say she was doing some kind of viral research?”

Jared knew what he was hinting at. “No, no fucking way. Two people couldn’t have done all that.”

“Maybe not,” Jensen said, “but you have to admit, it bears thinking.”

Jared placed the binder he was looking at back into its original place. “We need to find out more because if you’re right, then we’re standing on Ground Zero.”

“And maybe the cure,” Jensen added.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

Emily looked completely dumbfounded while David schooled his expression to one of doubt as Jared and Jensen explained what they’d found downstairs.

“Tony had a very important job at a biotech company,” Emily cautiously reminded them. “It makes sense he built a lab for himself here.”

“Guys, do you know how crazy that sounds?” David stated bluntly.

“Look, maybe we’re wrong,” Jared said, “but you have to admit, it deserves a harder look by someone who’s more qualified.”

David sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll be right back.”

They heard him thudding down the stairs, but when he reached the basement there was only quiet. Then they heard David return, this time his footsteps almost at a dead sprint. “Shit,” he said. “Look, I’m a mechanic for the Army. I have no fucking clue who to call. The best I can do is my Sergeant.”

“Then call him.”

“How?” David asked. “Cell service is down.”

“Landline?” Jensen asked.

“Spotty at best,” Emily said. She paused for a moment. “Wait a minute … James has a ham radio.”

“What’s that?” David asked.

“And the age gap ever widens,” Emily said. “Donovan James was a friend of my husband’s. He is an avid amateur radio enthusiast. The only problem is he lives almost a mile from here.”

“Tell us how to get to his place,” Jensen said, “and we’ll see if we can get it.”

“Guys, I don’t know what this ham radio is much less how to operate it,” David protested. “And the last thing you need to do is risk your…”

“We’ll worry about that when we get there,” Jared said. “We could get a manual or something. But what we need right now is a way for you to contact your Sarge.”

“This is way too important for us to just sit on,” Jensen said. “ _Someone_ has to take a look at this.”

“All right, all right,” David conceded. “I’ll think of something.”

Jared felt the bottom of his stomach plummet as Emily drew them a rough map to James’ house. _Fuck, it’s on the other side of town. We’d have to cross that burned-out hellhole and probably the infected to get to the damn place._

Jensen must have come to the same conclusion because his face paled while the corners of his mouth turned down slightly. “We’ll go at twilight,” he said in a tight voice.

“What about me?” David asked. “Maybe I should go instead. If there is a radio and I can work it, I’ll be right there to...”

“It’ll be too dangerous for you,” Jared explained. “We can’t risk have anything happen to you since you’re the only contact the outside world will trust. Jensen and I are worth shit-on-a-stick when it comes to the Army but not you.”

David raised his hand. “Mechanic, and not a very good one at that.”

“Better than anybody else in this room,” Jensen said. “You stay put.”

“Emily, is it something we can carry?” Jared asked.

“Yes. James is obsessed about his hobby. He always had to have the latest and the greatest, and I remember they got smaller with each new model.”

“Hopefully that means the handbook’s still around,” Jared said.

They waited impatiently for the sun to wane. This time they were wise enough not to tell anything to Andrea who went to be early. Jared was worried about her. He knew oversleeping was a sign of depression, but for all he knew Andrea really did need the rest.

It was almost nine before the sky began to darken. David made sure they were outfitted correctly, and Emily gave them a small backpack filled with food and two bottles of water in case they had to stay away for the night. She also took the time to draw a better map than the first one.

Jared looked at Emily’s second map and gave a low whistle of amazement. “This is pretty detailed.”

“It helps that I lived here for twenty years,” Emily said drily. “Just be careful, okay?”

“We will,” Jared said, using the same tone he’d use on his mother when she set to fretting.

He heard David speaking softly with Jensen but didn’t bother to ask what. He could’ve guessed what the conversation would be about.

_Protect them, and if need be, kill the bastard. Don’t think twice._

Something told Jared that the soldier would have very little problem doing anything necessary to protect Emily and Andrea.

The moment they stepped outside the house, Jared felt positively crushed by his fear. For a moment, he couldn’t move and it took Jensen’s “You okay?” for Jared to actually start walking.

“Take a deep breath,” Jensen said. “I know exactly what you’re feeling.”

“No you don’t,” Jared said harshly, “because if you did, you’d be pissing in your pants right now.”

“I went to the bathroom earlier,” was Jensen’s deadpan answer.

Jared appreciated Jensen’s effort to diffuse his fear. “So, we’re sticking by what route exactly?”

“The one that’s not going to take us through Dante’s seventh circle of hell. And hopefully downwind from the smoke.”

Jared was about to ask why when he realized Jensen’s reasons: the smoke would mask any smell coming from them. And though Jared didn’t notice earlier while they were indoors, both he and Jensen smelled ripe.

But soon, Jared focused all his attention on his steps. He was a big guy and until recently he had no need for stealth. He could move easily and quickly for someone his size, but Jared sounded like a tank at full charge. And thus, announcing his presence to anyone within earshot.

One of the main reasons why Jensen was able to dance circles around him whenever they ended up playing against each other in a friendly pick-up game.

Jared heard the twig snap under his boots and mentally winced before swearing softly.

“Dude, you’re not going to be Robin Hood,” Jensen whispered. “Just pay attention to your surroundings, okay?”

Jared did as Jensen suggested. After a few minutes, he felt more relaxed and his steps became lighter as direct result.

Jared smelled the smoke first, even before they were completely off the property’s boundary. And what he thought was twilight’s cast was mostly smoke that had been looming over the town since lack of any substantial breeze.

Jared didn’t want to see but the moment the chance came, he found himself studying the dying husks of Valley.

_The fire had taken out the entire town, north to south, east to west._ He wondered if the fire was naturally born or if it was created by some manmade desires.

“I wonder if the locals set off the fire in the hopes of scaring off the infected,” Jensen voiced Jared’s unspoken thoughts.

“If they did, it was a pretty fucking bad idea.”

“Yeah.” Jensen pointed to the left of Valley where Jared could see a dirt road, barely visible in the dying light.

“Okay,” Jared said, then after a long pause, “do you see any survivors?”

“No,” Jensen answered flatly, “and if they’re smart, they’ll stay hidden.”

Jared didn’t have anything to say to that so he remained quiet as they made their way around a culvert and rows of hills. Not for the first time, Jared admired Emily’s meticulous work.

By unspoken agreement, they kept off the dirt path and instead walked parallel to it. Twice, they had to duck behind bushes or cluster of trees because of noise. Both times it turned out to be animals.

And they didn’t bring any sort of comfort to Jared. One was a coyote, limping badly. From its torn coat and half-chewed ear, Jared knew it had been in a fight. With a sickening feeling he wondered if it was with another animal or an infected human.

The second was a cluster of house cats. Their march should’ve made Jared smile but instead he felt crawling sense of fear. They were acting like a pack of wild animals, and half of them were bloodied with one whose tail was completely missing. Two still had on collars with bells jingling merrily.

_If they find us they’ll attack, just like that dog in Seattle_ , Jared concluded. _But these cats won’t kill themselves. Oh no, they’ve gone completely feral. And they won’t care if we’re bigger. They’ll die trying to take us down._

They waited until the cats were completely out of sight before moving any further.

“So this virus affects animals in different ways,” Jared said.

“Yeah, and none of it’s good for us.”

Jensen sped up his pace and Jared followed. They reached Donovan James’ house as the last of the sun died, painting the horizon red.

Jared took a peek through the window and saw chaos. Overturned furniture and shattered glass littered the floor.

“We’re going through the back,” Jensen said.

Jared gave a tight nod and followed Jensen to the rear of the house to find the kitchen door wide open.

Jared wanted to turn right around and run but he knew they had no choice.

_Made it this far, have to find the fucking thing. And then get the hell out._

He smelled death the moment they entered the house: shit, piss, and blood. So Jared was prepared to find a corpse. What he wasn’t prepared for was the condition it was in.

_No human being could’ve done that_ , Jared thought numbly. Then he saw the bite marks on the calves and face and felt his stomach lurch. He quickly decided he’d given the body enough attention and switched his focus to the house.

Jensen slowly cleared the main floor but they didn’t find the radio. Which left the second floor and the basement.

_Fuck, not another basement_ , Jared thought as dismay settled into his bones. _Please God, don’t let it be in the basement!_

But when Jared saw the old wooden staircase leading upstairs, the basement didn’t look so bad.

_How am I suppose keep quiet?_

Beads of perspiration dotted Jared’s upper lip and the back of his neck as they slowly crept up the stairs. Unfortunately there was a blind turn at the top, which forced both of them to crane their necks into an uncomfortable position as they made their way to the second floor.

There wasn’t any sound; the deadened air making it almost unbearable for Jared who, in a moment of a nervous fit, wanted to make enough noise to attract elephants in Zimbabwe. Instead, he made a slight hiccupping noise as Jensen tapped him on the shoulder.

Jensen pointed to a bedroom whose door was wide open, with a shadow quivering on its floor.

Jared could’ve danced in relief when he saw the cause of the shadow dancing. A lace curtain was blowing in the wind as the last of the sunlight streamed through, making patterns on the floor. He decided that closing the window would prevent further heart attacks and was slowly lowering it when he caught sight of a familiar figure.

“Oh shit,” he whispered.

Jensen heard him and peeked out to catch a familiar shirt fluttering in the wind.

“Who is that?” he asked.

“Meghan.”

Jensen didn’t have any time to respond. The kitchen door crashed open and though Meghan didn’t say anything, she made enough noises banging downstairs that they knew her location.

It took Jared a moment to realize, “My God, she’s taking the same path we took.”

“Our scent, she can _smell_ us.”

That was enough for the two men to become galvanized. Jared slammed all the doors shut as they made their way down the hall.

“In here,” Jensen said.

They darted into the master bedroom as Meghan’s tread stormed up the stairs. But they immediately stopped at the top.

_She can’t smell as well anymore so it’ll be harder for her to track us_.

He turned to find Jensen unlocking a French window. When it was open wide enough Jensen looked down to calculate the distance. It must have been doable because he leapt without hesitation.

The jump was at least ten feet but the landing was grass so Jared had enough cushioning to prevent injuries. As he scrambled to his feet, Jared hoped they weren’t heard.

His prayer went unanswered.

Meghan’s pale, ravaged face flashed into view. Then her lips curled upwards, revealing dirty teeth. She banged the window hard enough that a pane broke.

“Run!” Jensen shouted.

Jared hadn’t taken three steps when he heard a crash behind him. Meghan had jumped right through the window. And though parts of her face and arms were shredded into gory ribbons, she came at them, screaming.

Jared didn’t think; he picked up a rock and threw it like it was a baseball. It smashed into her face, sending her reeling backwards. But the shock was only momentary; she got up. And even with one eye and nose smashed in along with her dislocated jaw, she once again charged towards him.

Jared picked up another rock and hurled, but this time he missed.

Jensen did not.

He appeared out of nowhere, and took out Meghan’s knees with a shovel. She fell forward but started crawling towards Jared by raking her fingers like claws through the grass.

Jared stood and watched, not being able to do anything as Jensen raised the shovel over his head. And he still did nothing as Jensen brought it down, wordlessly and swiftly.

The crack wasn’t as loud as Jared thought it’d be, but maybe that was because the virus did something to her skeletal frame. There was only a small squirt of blood and that was all.

Meghan immediately stopped struggling, which made Jared weirdly feel better. That respite was transitory and deceptive: when Jensen released his grip, the shovel remained embedded in Meghan’s skull.

Jared want to empty out his stomach but his terror made that impossible. He was too afraid that the stench would attract more attention. Instead, he crashed to the ground, his ass absorbing all the shock and transmitting none of it to his brain.

“Get up,” Jensen ordered harshly. “We can’t stay out in the open.”

Jared skittled back couple of feet before realizing he had to actually stand. He'd just gotten to his feet when Jensen grabbed him by his arm and forcefully shoved him into the detached garage.

The ancient Dodge Charger parked to one side was so familiar that Jared felt a cramp of nostalgic pain: it reminded him of all his innocent days in Texas.

“Over there,” Jensen said, pointing at the darkened corner of the garage.

Jared saw it: an old carpenter table filled with what he first thought was junk. It was only when he got closer that he saw what could be a ham radio along with a microphone attached.

_Okay, this I can do. I can pack the fucking thing and we can get the hell out of here._

Jared pawed through the desk until he found a guide to the brand new equipment. He quickly flipped through it, reading the necessary parts.

“I think we just need the radio and the microphone, nothing else,” Jared said. When Jensen didn’t respond, he turned to discover his friend leaning against the car, hyperventilating and looking greyer by the second.

Jared grabbed him as Jensen’s legs gave way. He wordlessly settled Jensen on the ground, placing him against the car.

“I thought … I thought she’d get up and I would have to smash her skull again,” Jensen confessed between panicky breaths. “And I was sure that I couldn’t do anything if she did. I actually felt happy when she stayed down.”

Jared watched helplessly as Jensen covered his face and began weeping.

“I can’t believe I was happy,” Jensen said over and over.

Jared was unable to say anything of comfort so he instead held Jensen tightly in his arms until Jensen calmed down. The moment he thought Jensen’s equilibrium returned, Jared began swiftly packing everything in a duffel bag he'd brought along while keeping a sharp eye towards his friend. “Do you want to go back now?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen said, “I have no idea if the infected people can see better at night. But what we do know is they can smell better than us.”

Jared quashed the desire to return to Emily and Andrea. _Jensen’s right. We’ll be seriously crippled out in the open at night._

“At the same time the longer we stay out here, greater chance of being found.”

“Fucked both ways.”

“Just about.” Jensen took another peek out the window. “I don’t know about you but I’d feel a lot better back with Dave and everyone else. I know we play badasses on television but let’s face it, neither of us are trained to deal with anything like this.”

_Coulda fooled me_ , Jared thought, studying his friend’s pale profile. “So, we head out?”

“Yeah, and we stay downwind of town. Hopefully that will be enough to mask our scent.”

Jared knew his survival instincts should be ringing all its klaxon bells at the thought of going outside. But he wanted comfort and familiarity and miles away from Meghan’s body whose skull still had a shovel sticking out of it like a demented version of a flag planted on a newly-found territory.

“Do you want me to carry the bag?” Jensen asked.

Jared stuck out a mutinous jaw. “No, I can do this.”

“All right,” Jensen handed over a bottle of water. “Finish it. Once we start we’re not stopping until we get to Loony Lucy’s.”

Jared cracked a weak grin. “That sounds like we’re going to drop by a cathouse.”

“Don’t we wish.”

As usual, Jensen took point but this time he slowed down considerably so Jared could keep up.

“I can go faster,” Jared whispered after few minutes. He’d gotten used to the weight and truth be told, the equipment wasn’t at all heavy. His training included lugging weights in a specially-made backpack and his trainer went up to forty pounds, all the while upping the running miles from two to five.

Jared fully expected to hear something, anything, but the silence that reigned over them was eerie. _No raccoons, not even possums. Nothing._

Jared shuddered as he thought about where they could’ve gone. A sudden breeze carried the scent of the ocean towards him, turning his trembling into something more violent.

“Shit,” Jensen said.

It was then Jared figured out they lost the downwind advantage. “Let’s hurry up.”

The two men began jogging as quietly as possible, but their increasing speed confessed their slowly rising panic. They were almost past Valley when the first howl reached them.

_Please God, let that be a wolf_ , Jared prayed. _Or some rabid dog or…_

The following howls, though bizarre, were familiar enough for them to realize that they were ululations from human beings.

Without a word, they began running, abandoning any hope of silence. Because Jensen carried nothing, he was few yards ahead. Then, as if by magic, he disappeared.

Jared came to a stuttering halt and looked around. “What…”

“Down here!” Jensen’s voice echoed from the forest floor.

Jared looked down and saw Jensen’s pale face. It looked like he’d fallen into a disused storm cellar.

Jared jumped as if goosed when a howl sounded like it came from only few feet to his left. “Is there a door?” he hissed.

Jensen looked around then approached the wall to his right. He pushed with all his strength and a hidden door widened to reveal a narrow hallway. That was all Jared needed. He leapt down and almost shoved Jensen into the corridor before shutting the door behind them.

Not a moment later, snarling and other bestial noises cascaded from above.

_Please God, don’t let them fall in. Don’t let them fall in,_ Jared prayed even when the sounds faded away.

Jensen tugged at his shirt, signaling that they would have to move inwards, into the darkness. Jared wanted nothing more than to stay put but he knew they had little choice. With reluctant steps, he followed Jensen down the passage, his arms spread out wide, allowing him to touch the walls on either side.

_They’re bricks_ , Jared concluded. _Someone took care building this place. Why?_

Jared guessed they walked at least thirty feet before he heard Jensen fumbling. Then a thin LED beam illuminated their path.

Jared had braced himself for the Boogeyman standing not three feet away from them but all he saw was a passage so deep that the flashlight’s reach couldn’t illuminate.

“What is this place?” Jensen asked.

“You know, it might have been built in the twenties,” Jared whispered. “Back in Prohibition days, these islands were used for bootlegging. Smugglers brought in stuff all the time from Canada.”

“Okay,” Jensen said. “So do you have any idea where it could end?”

“Probably near the water,” Jared answered. “Best way to smuggle booze into town without getting noticed.”

“Could there be other entrances?”

“Probably.”

“Then we have to be extra careful, because there might be people down here.”

Jared frowned and then said, “But wouldn’t…”

“They wouldn’t be glad to see strangers. They might even react violently.”

Then there was the unspoken agreement about what else could be down in the tunnels: infected animals, _infected humans_.

Without a word, they stuck closer than ever, Jared matching Jensen’s speed as they made their way through the tunnel. After walking what seemed like half the island, they came to a split in the path. One was still lined with bricks- the other, dirt.

“Which one do you think?” Jensen whispered.

“I’m guessing the one with brick walls is going to lead us into the island, the other probably to a beach.”

Jensen looked at Jared. “Why do you think that?”

“A tunnel coming in from the beach is not going to be bricked up – would catch attention way too easily.”

“Of course.” Jensen turned the light towards the one hopefully leading away from the island’s center. “So we go this way?”

“Yeah.”

It was the sound of the ocean and not its scent that reached them first.

“Oh thank God,” Jared said.

Jensen shushed him. Jared took the gentle rebuke without any resentment, and enjoyed the familiar rhythm of waves washing ashore. It was then he heard another sound, subtle and distinct; similar to the noise Gen would make when she clicked her fingernails on a solid surface due to stress.

“What the hell…”

Jensen’s confusion completely grabbed Jared’s attention. He looked at what the beam of light was pointing at. It took him a moment to figure out the bundle was a blanket wrapped around the corpse.

Jackie’s corpse.

“Oh Jesus,” he managed to croak out. Now the cave was only too familiar. Then the clicking noises returned. He examined the body a bit closer and saw ripples under the blanket.

“That can’t be happening,” Jensen said flatly.

“Can’t be,” Jared echoed.

But the movements became more and more pronounced. Jared tensed up as Jensen leaned down slightly in order to focus the beam on the body. He didn’t have to go far. Something crawled out of the blanket from Jackie’s head.

Jensen withdrew, his lips peeled back in a grimace. “Crabs.”

In its claws was a hank of dirty blonde hair.

Jared had forgotten: crabs were foragers and would eat anything including human flesh. And Jensen’s urine wouldn’t be a deterrent against the crabs.

Jared felt his stomach roil as he suddenly remembered all the times he gorged on seafood.

“I’m going to be sick,” Jensen said, then pressed a fist against his mouth.

“The vomit comet’s already occupied.”

Jensen made a choking noise, alarming Jared. He turned to look at Jensen and found his friend fighting back a smile. Jared didn’t know how his off-handed comment could possibly be construed as humorous. But seeing Jensen’s humor return if only briefly was rewarding enough for him not to ask.

They moved around the body, scrupulously ignoring the crunching noises as they stepped on the scavengers that had recently feasted on Jackie’s corpse. Nevertheless, Jared took brutish pleasure as he stepped on as many as possible while they made their way towards the cave’s entrance.

The night air was refreshing, as the wind seemed to have kept its course away from the burnt town. But this meant they had to be extremely careful as they made their way up the cliffside and to the house.

Jared almost broke into tears when he saw the familiar rundown shack. There weren’t any lights, but he spotted fluttering of curtains in the kitchen window which told him of a presence: a presence with a sane mind.

They took a path lit with moonlight in the hopes that David would recognize them. The door was locked only for a moment. Then it swung open with no one in sight. They stumbled in, both taking deep breaths of stale air with gusto.

“Damn good to see you,” David said, holstering the gun.

Jared pointed to the duffle bag. “We got it.”

Dave smiled. “Good.”

“Did anything happen?”

“Syd started crying,” David said, his exasperation making him speak faster. “Emily felt sorry for him. I got to them before it was too late.”

“Crocodile tears?” Jensen asked. “He was trying to escape, right?”

“Yeah, but I had a talk with him and made him see the error of his ways.”

Jared gave a dry chuckle. “Did you let him change his pants afterwards?”

David shrugged. “Had to. It’ll be a while before he gets another bright idea.”

“Good job,” Jensen warmly praised the soldier, unwittingly generating a hot flash of jealousy from Jared.

David gave them another, longer look-over and said, “I’m guessing you guys ran into problems and not small ones either.”

Jared grinded out, “Something like that.”

“Let’s set this up.” Jensen pointed to the bag. “One of the bedrooms in the back would probably be best.”

It wasn’t until they had set out the equipment on the bed that they saw another, equally pressing problem.

“What in hell are we going to use as a power source?” Jensen asked.

“That’s not a problem,” David answered. “I can hook up a car battery to the radio.”

“Is there electricity?” Jared asked.

“It’s been spotty,” David said as he started flipping through the manual. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the microwave. It’s been going on and off at least a dozen times since you guys left.”

“Could that damage the radio?” Jensen asked.

“Definitely, this house is too old to have GFIs and we can’t risk having a surge destroy this.” David patted the radio and took a glance at its back panel. “Yeah, it won’t take much. Is there a car battery? Or a car?”

Jared closed his eyes and recollected what he’d seen in the barn. “There is. It’s old but not rusted. Actually there were few.”

“Where?” Jensen looked at Jared in confusion. “I don’t remember seeing any.”

“In the barn. Behind the stack of wood at the right … towards the back, one on the shelf and three sitting on the table.”

“Impressive memory you got there,” David said.

“What else do you need?” Jensen asked.

Jared realized what Jensen was saying. “We’re going to wait until daylight. I don’t know about you but I’m done for the night.”

“Maybe we could cannibalize what we need from downstairs,” David said.

“I wouldn’t touch anything in the lab,” Jared said quickly. “We can’t disturb the evidence and the last thing we need is stir up more shit.”

David paled slightly. “Okay, so no touching Dr. Frankenstein’s lair.”

“As soon as daylight comes, we have to start broadcasting,” Jared said. “Can you start working on it now? Do what you can?”

David took the duffle bag and a flashlight from Jensen. “I’ll get on it.”

His steps were light and quick as he made his way to the kitchen. Jared looked at the disappearing soldier and felt so very, very old. And it wasn’t fatigue. He’d dealt with mind-numbing exhaustion before: working on _Supernatural_ had taught him how to run on fumes alone.

_But this thing that’s eating away in my mind … in my guts … there’s no healing that. No repairing. I’m going to have to live with the damages somehow._

_But how?_

Jensen nudged him. “Let’s get something to drink, and maybe to eat.”

Jared felt numb and hollow after what had happened and had absolutely no appetite, but he needed company, and Jensen always brought with him a kind of peace that Jared couldn’t generate even if his soul depended on it.

The two men stumbled into the kitchen and took turns taking drinks from the tap, both grateful for the cold water. Jared sat on the floor, leaning back on the refrigerator.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I can’t believe I just froze.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jensen said as he munched on a slice of Wonder Bread. “It wasn’t Meghan, okay? Just think about that and don’t … think about anything else.”

Jared understood and accepted Jensen’s reticence. His friend didn’t have any time to process what he’d done but Jared wanted to be there for him when Jensen finally did.

Jensen wasn’t by nature what one would call a ‘sensitive soul’, but he had the habit of going over things until it gave him a migraine. So, it naturally fell on Jared to snap Jensen out of his cycle, at least until Danni.

_But even then nothing changed much, at least on set_ , Jared thought with a drop of smugness. So, he sat back, forced himself to relax and watch Jensen as he slowly unfurled. Bit by bit, Jensen went through his ritual; one that Jared had become very familiar with over the years.

First, Jensen rolled his head around, stretching his neck muscles. Then, rolling the shoulders; followed by turning his wrists, sometimes cracking them loud enough to startle people around him; for the finale, he scratched his chest and neck.

Jared had no idea what that last part accomplished, only that it was part of Jensen’s ritual.

Jared knew Jensen was finally relaxed enough when his shoulders sank. Without warning he was washed with a feeling so powerful it was almost childlike in its intensity and clarity.

Closing his eyes, Jared gave a small sigh and finally surrendered to what he’d known since their second year of working together.

_I’m in love with him. And the truth is it’s only as difficult as I want it to be, and so fucking simple if I choose it to be._

Jared looked at his hands, struggling with the sudden dry mouth. _My life is a fucking train wreck. And whose fault it that?_

It was then he realized he hadn’t thought about Gen for over a day, and Jared wanted nothing more than feel guilty for being a grade-A scumbag. But all he could drudge up was … exhaustion.

“Hey, why don’t you get some shut-eye?” Jensen asked.

Jared nodded slowly, “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll see if David needs anything.”

“You’re going to wake me up this time?”

“Hell yes, I’m just as tired as you.”

Jared managed to stumble his way back to the bedroom where he found Emily and Andrea curled up in a corner, fast asleep.

Jared lay down between them and the door, and pulled up his sleeping bag over him like a shield. It took him only few moments before falling asleep; his exhaustion acting mercifully by granting him dreamless night.

* * *

  
Jared felt a gentle shake and muttered, “Five more minutes.”

“Jared,” a soft female voice said. “It’s eight.”

Because it was a woman’s voice, Jared woke up to find Emily peering down with a smile.

“Fuck him,” Jared growled, sitting up. “Jensen…”

“Fell asleep on the sofa,” Emily said. “David was done an hour after you guys came back. He relieved Jensen.”

“Okay, that’s better,” Jared said sheepishly.

“The way this is going, Andrea’s going to collect enough from the swear jar to finance her college education.”

Jared grinned. “And med school if it suits her.”

“There’s cereal and milk for breakfast; and Jensen somehow made coffee. It’s still hot.”

Jared’s grin widened. “You have to understand Jensen, when it comes to coffee, he’s Einstein, Feynman, and Newton _combined_. Starbucks should be on their knees, thanking the good Lord he never got into the coffee business.”

Emily stepped back, allowing Jared to stand up. “Thank you for what you did last night.”

Jared remembered what he did, and more importantly what he didn’t. His appetite disappeared with the picture of Meghan and the shovel embedded in her head.

“Are you all right?” Emily asked, leaning forward to touch him.

Jared shied back. “Yeah, we came across some infected people.”

Emily mouthed a silent ‘oh’ and said nothing, allowing Jared to escape. He found the cereal in the bowl with the milk already poured. He dove into the food even though his appetite was gone. The last thing they needed was for him to pass out or worse - have him unable to do something that was required of him.

He finished the entire bowl and didn’t leave a drop of milk behind. Jared peeked into the living room and found Jensen asleep on the sofa, curled up like a cat. It was then, with his face in full daylight, that Jared saw the narrowing cheeks, the dark circles under the eyes, and the chapped lips.

_He’s literally working himself to the grave_ , Jared concluded. _Jesus, how could I have missed this?_

Jared examined Jensen’s hands and gently touched the skin. When he pinched it, it didn’t snap back but instead slowly sank, as if its elasticity was weakening.

_Dehydration and malnutrition probably_ , Jared concluded. He tried to remember when was the last time he’d seen Jensen eat and couldn’t. Jared closed his eyes and kicked himself.

Jensen often skipped his meals whenever he was under pressure. It wasn’t obvious unless one knew about the propensity, and it had taken Jared almost a full season of working with Jensen before catching on.

_And let’s face it, he’s under pressure like never before. Not that I’m a help in that department._ Jared steeled himself then. _Got to pull my fucking weight. He’s not Dean, I’m not Sam, and this isn’t some fucking show._

Jared returned to the kitchen, poured cereal into a bowl and placed it on the table in front of Jensen. He scribbled a hasty note, making sure his frustration came across:

> Eat, you stubborn SOB. No matter what anybody says, you’re not invincible.

  
He returned to the kitchen to find Emily braiding Andrea’s hair, whispering things that probably had little value to anyone else save the little girl.

“Are boys allowed?” Jared asked.

Andrea scrunched his face and said, “I don’t know. But I think you’d be okay.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Jared sat across from Andrea.

“Because your hair’s long enough,” Emily teased, smiling around the barrette in her mouth.

Jared made a rude noise before grinning. He heard a gentle thump emanating from the back of the house and said, “Hey, I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

He made his way to the bedroom where they’d dumped the ham radio, dreading and yet excited to find what David had done. The first thing Jared noticed was that it looked like Radio Shack regurgitated all its wares into the tiny bedroom. Wires were dangling from the ceiling fan, stripped to reveal its copper filaments. There was even a lawnmower sitting in a corner, tilted at a crazy angle.

“Do I even want to know?” Jared quipped as he walked in.

“Probably not,” David said. “I had to raid just about everywhere,” he raised a cautionary finger, “but not the lab, to get what I needed.”

“How’s it working?”

“So far? Good. I started getting reception about twenty minutes ago, and the chatter’s all about what’s happening here. If Uncle Sam’s having a bitch of a time shutting down these waves, I hate to think what’s happening on the internet.”

“Whatever it is, I hope the message is getting out.”

“I didn’t remember until you guys fell asleep, but I’ve got a buddy in the unit who loves this shit. I’ve been trying to get on his band but it’s jammed.”

Jared turned to him. “Jammed?”

“Yeah,” David said. “Thompson chats every minute he can get, and he’s gone, totally gone.”

Jared heard the concern in David’s voice, and was smart enough to remain quiet. As he expected the silence worked.

“I think someone must have tried to reach someone not on the A-list,” David finally said. “So, the brass shut everything down.”

“A-list?”

“Approved group of people,” David clarified.

“But you couldn’t tell them anything, right?” Jared probed. “I mean the silent order had to be a blanket.”

David nodded. “Yeah, it was. But … well, there are ways to tell something to someone without saying anything.”

“I see.”

“But that won’t work if you can’t contact anyone,” David said.

“But does that mean they can’t listen?” Jared looked at the radio. “Look, maybe someone’s listening, not your friend, but wouldn’t it make sense that all channels are being monitored, just in case?”

“That just means we have to be even more careful,” David said. “Because you don’t know _who_ is listening. And some of them…”

“Could be nuttier than a Payday Bar?”

David grimaced and shrugged. “Paranoia doesn’t run short in the military. In fact, next to shit rolling down, it’s the second most popular by-product in the Pentagon.”

“But we need someone in the outside world to know about this.”

David shook his head slowly as if Jared wasn’t getting what he was trying to explain. “I agree with you on that. It’s just that there are people I know who wouldn’t say anything. They’d probably just turn off the radio and walk away.”

“Why?”

“Because they’ve got no imagination and hate the idea of … well, the weird, let’s say.”

Jared had to take a moment to process that. “Still, we have to take a risk, right?”

“Yeah, we do,” David agreed reluctantly. “Boy, this is going to suck.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to have to broadcast 24/7 and use all the bands.”

“We need a script,” Jared thought out. “Something short but telling. And we have to make sure it’s informative but not scary. The last thing we need is for the military to decide nuking Santos is the best option.”

“Exactly,” David paused. “So, you and Jensen? You guys can cough up something, right?”

Jared didn’t want to volunteer Jensen so he said, “Let me write up something.”

David looked at his watch. “I better check on Syd. See if he wants to take a piss or something.”

“Where is he?”

David’s grin was sour. “Follow me.”

He had Syd penned in the guest bathroom. In the twelve hours Jared hadn’t seen the man, Syd had gone through a remarkable metamorphosis. He looked like he’d dropped at least ten pounds though that wasn’t obvious from his swollen face. Jared thought the guy had a broken nose, maybe even a cracked orbit. And the baleful glare that had burned before was now extinguished.

Syd looked like a school bully who found the boy he’d been picking on turn into a great white. _And a hungry one at that._

“You’re going to behave?” David asked amiably.

Syd opened his mouth but then got wise. He gave a nod instead.

“Good, because the last thing we need is to scare Andrea and Emily like you did yesterday,” David said, his tone still conversational and light. “Because you do that and attract attention from the sick? Well, I won’t have any choice but to throw you out the nearest window to give us a head start.

“You hearing me?”

Jared could see Syd imagining just that scenario, so he wasn’t at all surprised to see Syd’s second nod to be great deal more enthusiastic than the first one.

“All right then,” David said. He leaned over and untied a knot so complex that Jared knew it would need at least two hands to work it out.

Syd rubbed his bruised wrists and slowly stood up from the tub. Jared realized David had given the guy just enough rope to sleep in the tub and take a piss in the toilet.

_Gave him the ability to keep his dignity instead of tying him to a chair_ , Jared concluded. _That way Syd wouldn’t be psychotically pissed when David came by._

Jared took the lead with Syd sandwiched between him and David as they made their way down the hall. Emily was with Andrea in the living room while Jensen was in the kitchen, munching on the dry cereal Jared had left for him. His eyes went cold and flat the moment he saw Syd.

Jared poured a bowl of corn flakes for Syd who devoured it quickly and also made quick work of the water David gave to him.

“We’re good, Dave,” Jared said. “Why don’t you go back to the ham radio?”

David gave Syd a leveled glance. “Sure, call me if you need anything.”

Jensen rinsed his bowl once with water then drank it. He then meticulously dried it with a dishtowel before putting it away.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” Jensen said.

“Not a problem,” Jared answered.

“We have a ham radio?” Syd asked in a halting tone.

“Yep,” Jensen answered. “Went out last night to get it.”

Syd’s eyes widened. “You went out? At night?”

“Had no choice.”

“Any news?” Syd looked out the window. “Anything at all?”

“So far not much,” Jared answered diplomatically. “Not that I’m surprised.”

Syd shook his head. “There should be some chatter, I wonder if it’s the same for the radio.”

“I checked earlier,” Emily said. “There’s just static.”

“Just because there’s nothing on the FM doesn’t mean the same for the AM,” Syd shot back.

“Why do you say that?” Jared asked casually.

“Santos gets reception from Canadian radio stations, and they’re all on the AM dial,” Syd explained. “DC could silence our radio stations but they’re going to have a bitch of a time trying to quiet down our neighbor’s.”

Jensen exchanged glances with Jared. “We could try later.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Jared said. “Thanks, Syd.” Even though he didn’t feel a drop of gratitude, Jared wanted Syd to feel obligated enough to reciprocate his appreciation by behaving.

The fake congeniality lasted few more minutes before David returned. “Okay, Syd, time to go back.”

“Fuck, man, I learned my lesson, okay?” Syd pleaded. “I swear…”

“You tried to choke Emily, and then you tried to bash my skull in,” David said in a reasonable tone. “Sorry, that’s one bill you won’t be able to pay up so easily.”

David pulled Syd off the stool and half-dragged him out of the kitchen. Jared could hear Syd’s protests and promises as he was led away. When the bathroom door closed behind them, Jared breathed sigh of relief.

“Wow, that sucked,” Jensen voiced Jared’s thoughts. “Between a case of head lice and watching a football game with Syd, I’d choose the lice, but still…”

“Yeah, I know.” Jared looked at the radio shoved into a corner above the refrigerator. “You want to try it?”

“Is it battery-run?” Jensen asked.

Jared pulled it down and checked. “Yeah, it is.”

“AM then, and let’s keep the volume low, just in case.”

Jared closed his eyes and threw a prayer before turning it on. There was a lot of white noise. The first channel that came through was, as expected, a holy-roller station. And the speaker was on _fire_.

“Brimstone and Hell hath come to those sinners in the…”

Jared continued to scan. He would've missed it but Jensen stopped him from scrolling further.

“So, now, Amazon has declared war alongside Microsoft,” the speaker said in a tight voice. “Their servers have become shall we say uncooperative? And Seattle bloggers have earned maybe twenty-four hour respite from being shut down. To tell the truth it’s been nothing short of a miracle that they’ve been able to communicate this long.

“As for Bill Gates’ whereabouts, nobody has a clue and that includes the Pentagon, the CIA, and the FBI. And I say, good for him! Glad to see somebody had the stones to stand up for what’s right! So, Billy, if you’re listening, bless you for what you’ve done. And for the assholes who are trying to undo his masterpiece – if you think you’re going to be able to unravel his virus: good fucking luck.”

There was a pause and soft voices in the background. “Okay, I have to sign off now before we get traced. So, tune in on the same bat channel at the same bat time. And we’ll try our best not to get our asses arrested before then.

“Take care, wherever you are.”


	7. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

**Federal Way, Washington**

“Sir?” Private Linton stood ramrod straight in front of his Sergeant; to an untrained eye looking like the perfect example of a soldier at attention.

But Sergeant Reid knew Linton since basic training and still a virgin. And the boy was next to a nervous breakdown. “What is it?”

“We … Thompson … sir, Thompson got a message from Spera.”

Reid didn’t bother to mask his shock. “What? How?”

“The radio, sir.”

“Wait a minute – how did Spera get hold of a radio station?”

“Sir, the ham radio. Thompson’s been playin…”

“I thought there were strict orders not to fuck around with any outside communication!” Reid roared, even though privately he was glad his favorite grease monkey managed to survive from falling out of a fucking helicopter while on assignment.

“Thompson was just listening, sir,” Linton explained lamely, realizing only too late that he’d gotten a buddy into a bed of hot water with the Sarge.

“And what did he hear?” Reid asked.

“Sir, Spera thinks he found the person responsible for the outbreak.”

Reid had been in many tough situations: situations which would have crippled a normal human being mentally and physically for life. But even he was unprepared for this particular revelation.

“What?” he asked, slowly getting up from his chair. “He found what?”

“He thinks he stumbled over the person or persons responsible for the terrorist attack.”

“Where?”

“Santos Island, sir,” Linton answered eagerly. “He’s transmitting shit ton of data over the waves.”

“Please tell me Thompson recorded them.”

“Yes, sir, he did,” Linton answered and pulled out a memory stick from his pocket.

Reid snatched the stick from the private and plugged it into his laptop. Soon enough a familiar voice flooded the makeshift office.

“This is Corporal David Marcus Spera. 1-2-3-5-7-11-13-17-19-23-29...”

“Why is he doing that?” Linton asked.

“Proving he’s not gone loco, son,” Reid answered. “Those are prime numbers which means his brain is still on schedule.”

Linton looked suitably impressed.

“41. I am currently on Santos Island, southwest of Bainbridge. We have…”

The transmission was no less than three minutes total but Reid thought it was great deal longer because of the information crammed into the brief message.

“Sir, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to see a man who knows a man,” Reid answered breathlessly. “Good work, and tell Thompson he’s not in the shit with me, at least, for listening in.”

“Yes sir, thank you, sir.”

Reid managed just enough patience to wait until Linton was out of earshot. Then he began making calls, not to his superior, but to the Pentagon. He knew it was a calculated risk to go over Lieutenant Jackson but the man had the imagination of a paperclip and that was on a good day.

He also knew something even worse: the civilian death count was nearing one hundred the last time he checked, and the number of desertion amongst the army was even higher.

As the pressure mounted and the news got darker, soldiers were reported either missing or MIA. It didn’t take much for Reid to conclude the army would continue to hemorrhage men left and right.

_Can’t say that I blame the fuckers_ , Reid admitted. _If I knew Armageddon was just around the corner, I’d want to go home and take care of my family too._

Reid had a family once, but Iraq 1.0 took care of that. He was engaged almost ten years later, but Iraq 2.0 put a swift end to that fragile relationship.

So, he spent all his free time not looking for another wife in fear that Iraq 3.0 would be waiting just around the corner, salivating with its claws unsheathed.

“Sir?” Reid said as soon as the familiar voice answered his call. “I got something from one of my men. I think you’ll be very interested…”

* * *

  
**Brandeis University  
Waltham, Massachusetts**

Dr. Rose stood up from her stool only to collapse back into it. “Shit!” she swore loudly, rubbing her face. “Fuck, damn, shit!”

She stood up but this time with great deal more care. The wooziness returned but the stubborn doctor grabbed the edge of the table and waited out the fit. Realizing her condition was due to lack of food and not anything more serious, the researcher made her way to her desk where she’d stashed a box of power bars for occasions such as this one.

While munching on her impromptu lunch, she checked her e-mail. As she feared, there was a litany of worried messages from family, friends, and acquaintances she hadn’t seen in years, all asking if she knew anything about what was happening in Seattle.

Rose was tempted to reply to few but knew better. The doctor was well aware she was being monitored though had little idea by who, and the last thing she needed was to give someone an excuse to lock her away in Gitmo.

Rose looked around the lab and blew out a frustrated sigh. All her assistants volunteered to stay and help, but two didn’t clear the security check and one turned out to be a flake. On the first day, the forty-two-year-old Ph.D. had a nervous breakdown and nearly destroyed her lab. It took three security guards and a sedation to get the man out of the room without having to lose any more valuable equipment.

“Complete clusterfuck,” was the security guard’s estimation after he’s surveyed the damage and she had to agree. It took her almost two days to get back into swing of things. But since she was the only one manning the entire place, the pace was slower than frozen molasses.

The exhausted researcher was making her ninth cup of coffee when she heard footsteps rushing down the hall. Rose was familiar enough with everyone on the floor to know that the men were probably from either the military or the government. Those who worked in the building knew the linoleum floors were uneven due to years of neglect and moisture, and would more often than not trip anyone going faster than a stroll.

The four men who entered the lab were as incongruous as could be. One looked like Anthony Bourdain – a middle-aged hipster desperately trying to hold onto his uniqueness; the second looked like a retired elementary school teacher; the last two – diehard marines.

“Can I help you?” Rose asked hesitantly.

“Read this,” the ex-principal ordered, sounding like a marine.

Rose mentally named the jackass ‘Principal Rooney’ and took the file. She scanned the few pages and summarized her thoughts as, “What the fuck?”

“Is that possible?’ Anthony Bourdain-wannabe barked out, also sounding like a marine.

“I don’t know,” Rose answered truthfully.

“Can you find out?” he asked, looking pissed that she couldn’t give a conclusive answer.

“Yes, it shouldn’t be too hard actually,” Rose answered. “Did you contact others about this?”

“We’re not at liberty to reveal that information,” Principal Rooney answered curtly.

Rose eyed him. “Look, if my colleagues are going ahead and doing their analysis of this, then it would be best if we were networked. That way we can parse out everything and not waste time.”

The four men seemed to share an unspoken agreement after listening to her argument. Rose knew right then all her colleagues had said the same thing. And knowing how bossy few of them were, she guessed her request would not be denied.

The upgrades that were installed in her lab in the following hours told her she’d guessed right.

* * *

  
**Santos Island**

David ran out of the bedroom. “I’ve got Thompson!”

Everyone bolted to the room including Syd who was only recently released.

“What is he saying?” Emily asked breathlessly.

“Listen!” David exclaimed. “Thompson, I’ve got everyone here. Can you confirm what you said to me?”

“I do, and I repeat: we are very interested in the package. All we have to do is put together an incentive to purchase the rights. Do you copy?”

“I do, over. When will we be getting the call?”

“Before Bourbon Street closes.”

“Sounds good. We will gather everything you requested so the transaction will run smoothly.”

“Understood. It’s good to hear from you, kid. By the way, Jenkins says you owe him twenty.”

“Tell Jenkins he could come and get it when I sign the dotted line.”

Thompson’s pleasant low laugh rolled over the waves before everything went silent.

“I have no idea what that was but it sounded good,” Emily whispered hopefully.

“Is it?” Andrea asked. “Is it good?”

David stroked her head. “It’s the best. We’d established code talk as soon the team came together. It’s an old habit with copter pilots. They tended to get shot down a lot in the old days so they decided to establish their own language as soon they got a crew.”

“Bourbon Street?” Jared asked.

“Thursday, at dawn,” David answered promptly, revealing how much trust they’d earned since he joined them.

“Oh thank God, that’s tomorrow!” Emily said.

Jared looked hopefully at the soldier. “And they’re bringing the cavalry?”

“Sounds like,” David answered. “We need to put together whatever we think it necessary, but we have to be careful because they might not be able to drop by twice.”

“Because once we attract the attention of the infected people, odds are they’ll come swarming in,” Jensen reasoned.

“So, unless we want a complete bloodbath in our hands,” David looked gravely at them, “it’s up to us to gather the information. The _right_ information.”

“But how do we do that?” Emily asked. “None of us are trained to sort out what’s valuable and what’s not.”

“We can get the hard drives,” David said. “That’s a start.”

Syd frowned. “Password protected?”

“That’s pretty much a myth,” David explained. “You can strip a hard drive of its information no matter how difficult the encryption. And trust me, we’ve got people who can do that.”

“We’ll sort through the paperwork,” Jensen volunteered. “See if we can find anything useful.”

The group somehow crammed themselves into the small lab and began methodically sifting through what looked like years of work. It took David an hour to remove the hard drives, which he wrapped in towels before packing into a messenger bag.

Even Andrea gamily tried to read the printouts but it didn’t take long for the child to lose interest. Catching her nodding off, Emily brought her back to the bedroom and stayed with her since the child refused to fall asleep without company.

After nearly six hours the final haul included three hard drives, two binders, and a dozen vials neatly stacked in a stainless steel case. Jared’s hands shook when he discovered them nestled in a desk drawer, under a false bottom.

_They have to be valuable. Wouldn’t have hidden them if they weren’t_.

After that discovery, the others did a more thorough search of the furniture but found nothing else.

Jensen found a stash of notebooks, the classical kind with the black and white cover. As he flipped through them, his face became grimmer.

“What’s wrong?” Jared asked.

“Population study,” Jensen said. “Or, more to the point, lack of population. The motherfucker was calculating how to maximize the number of deaths.

“He thought about bringing this shit to the airport but there were too many security cameras, and he didn’t want to get caught. He studied malls, museums, even University of Washington.”

“Sounds like he bought himself an express ticket to hell,” David said. “What does the last one say?”

Jensen took out the notebook from the bottom and opened it. He flipped through it quickly. “Looks like open surroundings was the best option for what he wanted. Wind factored in quite a bit.”

“Find which notebooks showed that and toss them in,” David ordered. “Dispersal is incredibly important in situations like Seattle.”

“Why do you say that?” Jared eyed the soldier nervously.

“Because Seattle might not be the only city he’d targeted,” was the terse answer. “He could have planted time-sensitive devices elsewhere.”

“A dirty bomb,” Jensen concluded. “Oh fuck.”

* * *

  
Jared was the first to wake. He looked around the bedroom and noticed nothing out of ordinary. Wondering what had woken him from dead sleep, he stepped into the hallway and quietly made his way to the kitchen.

When he saw David on the floor, unconscious, Jared immediately realized what was wrong: Syd.

He ran back to the bedroom and quietly woke Jensen.

“The fucker’s gone,” he hissed.

Jensen didn’t need to be told who the ‘fucker’ was. They rushed back to the kitchen and woke David by splashing a cup of cold water on his face.

“What happened?” Jensen asked. “Do you remember?”

David gave a groggy nod. “Syd, I think. My last memory was having conversation with him.”

“Where the hell did he go? And why…” Jared paused as dread flooded him. “Shit. Wait here.”

He went to the lab to discover what he already suspected: the messenger bag was missing.

“The son of a bitch stole the bag!” Jared informed Jensen and David.

“What? Why?” Jensen asked.

“Because he knew he’d get strung up the moment we were rescued,” David answered. “Attempted murder is still attempted murder, even during times like these.

“He took the bag to barter his way out. To get a clean record no matter what we say.”

“We have to wake Emily and go after him.” Jensen collected flashlights and a coil of rope. “He won’t go far, and in the condition he’s in – he could fuck it all up and end up destroying everything.”

Jared understood what Jensen meant, but for a moment he wondered if he could actually kill Syd if the need arose.

“You have to find him,” Emily said.

The three men jumped as if goosed: none of them heard her enter the kitchen.

“He’s one of those men who think he’s God’s gift,” Emily explained, “but he’s a coward. And if he comes across someone who’s sick … he’ll toss the bag aside in order to run faster.”

With that she handed the revolver over to David who accepted it without reservation.

“I’ll look after Andrea,” Emily said calmly. “Just stop him and bring back that bag.”

David took point as they left in pursuit of the runaway. The soldier immediately picked up on Syd’s trail and as Jensen stated, Syd wasn’t traveling quickly.

_The bag has to feel like a thirty-pounder for him_ , Jared thought as he followed David into the woods surrounding the property. They wordlessly scoured through the scrub brushes and trees heavy with scent, something Jared would’ve appreciated had he not been so scared to take another step.

The grunts were what attracted their attention. At first Jared thought it was someone infected, but the noise wasn’t so bestial as panicky. They approached the sound and found Syd in a clearing, struggling.

The weak moonlight revealed the frantic escapee fighting to free himself from a deadfall. Instead of trying to go around the stack of dead trees he tried to climb over them and had gotten trapped amidst the rotting branches.

Jared heard David’s quiet huff of laughter and found Jensen shaking his head in annoyance and amusement. But in spite of the levity, they still approached the struggling man with great caution.

Without warning David slapped Syd on the back of the head, immediately stopping the man’s struggles.  
  
Syd’s eyes widened in shock and recognition. Jensen slapped a hand over Syd’s mouth to stop him from screaming while David raised a cautionary finger and waggled it back and forth as a warning.

Jared spotted the bag in the tangled branches and deftly pulled it out. David gave Syd the middle finger before reaching down to free the man’s left leg.

The snarls sounded so loud Jared expected the infected to be almost on top of them. But when he took a quick look he didn’t see anyone.

David, on the other hand, did. He began running, half dragging Jared behind him. Jensen continued struggling to free Syd until the infected crested over a gentle hill. Even in the leaden moonlight it was obvious there were at least a dozen in the pack.

Jensen ran.

Jared didn’t look back as he kept pace with David, but he couldn’t stop hearing.

“Don’t leave me here!” Syd screamed. “Oh God don’t leave me here! Help me! Jesus, help me! Please!”

Jared ran faster in order not to hear Syd’s cries or the triumphant howls that drowned the pathetic begging.

The three men entered the cottage, speaking not a word. And when Emily saw their wan, defeated faces she didn’t speak either. Instead she took the messenger bag and went down to the lab where they’d stashed it earlier.

Still silent, David sat on the kitchen chair, indicating his desire to finish his shift. Jared followed Jensen back to the bedroom, and when Jensen took him into his arms and held him tight, Jared didn’t struggle.

And in the agreed-upon silence, Jared wept without a sound.

* * *

  
They arrived on Santos without attracting any attention from either the media or the sick. They even managed to get to the town center with no casualties. It looked to Sergeant Horn that they might just succeed in carrying out their orders when things went south. And James Horn knew exactly when it all went to hell: the moment the first shot was fired.

He’d seen plenty of action so when a single infected came charging down the road, he wasn’t at least alarmed. What he didn’t realize was the stupidity of some of the men under him. And when Anderson emptied an entire magazine on the _single_ target, Horn knew shit had really hit the fan.

What he also wasn’t prepare for was the airstrike called in by his _superior_ , who was witnessing this in the comforts of a Humvee on the outskirts of town. So, when the Black Hawks came roaring in, Horn had just enough time to order his men to take cover.

_How in hell is there anything left to burn?_ the sergeant wondered as fire came roaring to life. He’d seen the satellite photos of Santos and believed the previous fire had done a fine job of turning most of the small island into a barbeque pit.

But, as he watched helplessly, the wind picked up speed and quickly spread the flames east and north, where the objective lay.

_Where the fucking cure is_ , he thought dismally as the fire gathered strength and speed.

That was all he could afford as he had to join his men in strafing down the infected who swarmed into town, drawn by the loud noises and the smell of fresh, unspoilt meat.

* * *

  
“Holy shit, did you hear that?” Jensen asked as roars came overhead.

“Sounds like the cavalry,” David chimed in, relief evident in his face. “Oh thank God.”

“Maybe we should go to the lab,” Jared suggested nervously. “Wouldn’t it be safer?”

“You guys go,” David said. “I’ll stay here, make sure they know where we are.”

“They _know_ where we are,” Jensen said. “What I don’t get is why they didn’t just chopper in over us.”

“You’re thinking about movies,” David rebuked him gently. “The winds are ferocious, there’s no way they’re going to do a drop in that. Too dangerous.”

“Okay then,” Jensen looked out the window. “Wait a minute … is that smoke?”  
  
They ran outside and stared in horror at the smoke billowing from the south.

“Jesus Christ…” David said, “what the fuck is going on?”

“They’re burning us out,” Jensen stated flatly.

“Why would they do that?” Jared argued weakly. “They know we got the antidote.”

“Something must have happened then,” David snapped. “I think the blaze is heading this way.”

“What do we do?” Emily asked from the doorway, clutching Andrea.

“We’re taking you guys to a cave at the beach,” Jensen answered. “You’ll be safe there at least for a while.”

“And us?” David asked grimly.

“We’re going to try to deliver the information to the military,” Jensen answered.

“Why?” David looked confused by Jensen’s answer.

“In case the fire reaches us before they do,” Jared said. “We can’t waste any time.”

“Okay.” David ran back down to the basement to retrieve the bag while Emily hustled Andrea into a thin jacket and grabbed bottles of water.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she whispered. “The good guys are coming. All we have to do is wait for them to rescue us.”

“But we have to leave,” Andrea countered tearfully. “I don’t want to go outside.”

“I don’t want to either,” Emily confided, “but the fire’s coming and it’s coming fast. So we have to get out of here.”

Jared picked up Andrea into his arms and said, “Don’t look up, okay? I’ll carry you.”

Andrea wordlessly nodded before burying her face in his jacket. David came back with the bulging messenger bag.

“Okay, let’s go.” Jensen took a peek outside before leading them down the steep path to the beach.

Jared noted that some of the bodies that had washed up remained in spite of the tide. Emily made a gagging noise which attracted Andrea’s attention. But Jared palmed the back of her head and firmly planted her face into his chest in order for her not to witness the impromptu graveyard.

He reluctantly released her to Emily’s care when they reached the cave. “Don’t go too far in,” Jared warned Emily. “There’s something back there you don’t want to see.”

Emily took a glance at the bodies littering the beach and gave a firm nod before leading Andrea deeper into the cave.

“What do we do now?” Jared asked.

“We find someone who can deliver this to the right people,” David said. “Sounds like a plan?”

“Sure does,” Jared agreed readily.

“Anything else?” David asked.

Jensen shook his head. For a moment he looked so much like his alter ego, Jared half expected Jensen to pull out Dean’s gun and give a cocky grin. Instead, his friend marched out of the cave.

They were climbing up the cutaway when a familiar noise attracted their attention. They looked towards the ocean and spotted boats speeding towards the beach.

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” David trumpeted. “It’s the SEALs, and they’ve come to party!”

Jared counted at least sixty men in nine different Zodiacs and all of them looked more than capable of handling the situation.

“Do we want to approach them?” Jensen asked. “Will they shoot us?”

“They might,” David said grinning widely, “but it also means they really _believed_ us when we said we’ve got the cure.”

“That has to be enough, Jensen,” Jared said softly as he watched hostility and fear war on his friend’s face.

“Okay,” Jensen said. “Sorry, I … I just can’t believe it’s over.”

“That makes all of us,” David replied, “and apology is not necessary.”

The three turned around to make their way back down the path when rocks began falling from above. They looked up just in time to see a deluge of people appear over the edge.

“Oh my God,” David said and that was all he could manage.

The three bolted down the cutaway, chased by the infected.

_The fucking noise,_ Jared thought as panic overwhelmed him. _They followed the fucking noise. Why couldn’t the assholes arrive more quietly?!_

They hit the beach but instead of feeling relief, Jared’s panic spiraled into something even more primal.

The sand was eating their speed and though their chasers were also hindered, it was obvious they were going to catch up in few yards.

The gunfire that tore through the beach was nothing short of deafening. It was one continuous stream of fire from men trained to eat their panic and fear and regurgitate it through the trigger.

Jared saw David fall from the corner of his eye and whirled around to grab him. Without a word the injured soldier smoothly tossed the bag to Jared. The moment Jared caught it, the infected fell upon David like starving crocodiles.

Jared ran even faster towards soldiers who seemed determined to kill _everyone_ , including himself. One of them broke rank and ran forwards to tackle Jensen who was only few feet ahead of Jared. With one smooth move Jensen whirled to his right and clocked the over-eager soldier in the solar plexus with his knee.

The operator dropped to the ground as if he’d been shot. Jensen grabbed his machine gun and with the same easy grace turned around and began firing into the infected.

“Run!” he screamed towards Jared. “The bag!”

Jared wanted to slow down but did not. Instead, he sprinted even faster. When he thought he was within hearing range, he began screaming:

“The antidote! I got the antidote!”

He heard Jensen holler in shock and turned just in time to see him crumple to the sand as his machine gun slid out of his hands. Jared forgot about the briefcase, and in spite of the gunfire, the soldiers too. He turned to help Jensen when the first bullet sliced through his chest.

It wasn’t the pain that stopped him but the sensation of all air leaving his body.

The second took out his thigh and Jared, like David and Jensen, crashed to the ground: the bag still in his clutches.

He felt shadows dance across his vision and blinked. The soldiers were slowly taking the beach by opening fire and in some cases, using explosives. One actually had an RPG and was using it to cut a deadly swath through the swarming mass. They walked by him as he lay dying, not sparing even a glance.

_I wonder if they’ll leave anyone behind_ , Jared thought aimlessly as the white-hot burning sensation was replaced by dull pain.

His vision was blocked by two soldiers who looked down at him. And even though they were fully masked his could see curiosity and concern in their eyes.

“This one’s sober,” one said.

“Yeah, I figured that when I saw him screaming in fear and running away,” the other, an older man, replied sarcastically before addressing Jared. “You’ve been shot but it’s not serious…”

“Holy shit!” someone shouted from further up the beach. “I think this is Dean Winchester!”

Jared smiled, tasting the tang of blood in his mouth. _Finally, some good luck. It’s about time!_

The younger soldier studied him more thoroughly. “Holy shit’s right: I got Sam!”

The one talking to Jared kneeled down. “Son, hang on. The medics are on their way. Just take it easy.”

“Jensen?” Jared managed to croak out.

“Who?”

“Dean?”

“It was a clean shot,” the soldier replied. “We figured you guys were sane, since you were running for your lives. Your friend’s hurt but unless my men got stupid and sloppy in the last five minutes, he’s alive.

“And if you got what I think you’ve got, then you folks are going to stay in the land of the living.”

Jared didn’t know if he believed the soldier. He wanted to say something but found words too heavy to speak. And for the first time since this hell started, he saw the sun peek out. So, Jared decided to enjoy it instead and closed his eyes.

* * *

  
**Bear Island, Washington**

Major Nicholas ‘Boom Boom’ Landry watched through the glass barrier as the nurses wheeled the two civilians out of the operating theater.

“I still can’t believe it,” he said to his friend, Dr. Joseph Ana.

“You and a shitload of people,” Joe replied.

“So they’re going to live?”

“Your men were good, as usual,” Joe complimented his friend. “Clean shot, no messy trauma to the heart or the liver. Lungs are another matter but we could work with that.”

“I nearly pissed in my pants when I saw Sam Winchester lying at my feet,” the major confessed.

Joe quirked an eyebrow. “You know they’re actors, right? Just playing a part on the idiot’s box.”

“Fuck you,” Nick said easily. “ _Supernatural_ ’s my men’s favorite show. And for a moment I thought I was completely fucked for killing Sam and Dean.”

“If what I remember is right: they don’t stay dead for long.”

“I still can’t believe they were with Spera, and that it was them who found the goddamn lab.”

Joe nudged his friend. “What they had – is it any good? Is it a cure?”

“I don’t know,” Nick said, “but the Pentagon boys grabbed that bag mighty fast. From what I heard they’ve basically taken apart the fucker’s lab in under an hour. And the contents in the briefcase are already at Atlanta.”

“So the CDC’s got it now.” Joe sighed and wiped his glasses with the sleeve of his shirt. “I hope to God they find something and fast.

“How’s Seattle holding?”

“It’s not,” Nick confessed. “They’re bleeding soldiers by the minute. The rate of desertion’s climbing and I’m sure people have slipped by the quarantine lines pretty much everywhere.”

Joe shook his head and rubbed his face. “I like to find the person who thought Seattle would be easy to control and give them a first-person tour of Santos.”

“It’s one thing to practice drills,” Nick said. “Something else altogether when it’s clawing at you, trying to rip off your dick.

“You know what some of the brass are saying?”

Joe shook his head. “No, not really, but you’re going to tell me anyway, right?”

“They’re saying the lack of sun had something to do with it.”

Joe looked at Nick, disbelief radiating from his face. “What?”

“They’re saying that lack of direct sunlight had something to do with what’d happened here.”

Joe pinched the bridge of his nose as his glasses slid down. “Oh my God, how in fuck did they come to that conclusion?”

“Who in hell knows, but it’s something that’s gathering traction in DC,” Nick explained. “Maybe they’re right.”

“Maybe they should stop drinking bourbon before eight in the goddamn morning,” Joe shot back. “Jesus Christ.”

“I have to go to another debriefing,” Nick said, his nose crunched in distaste.

“Want to meet up for dinner afterwards?”

“No, we’re being shipped back to Santos. Help clean up the mess there.”

“How many casualties?” Joe asked softly.

“Practically the entire population,” Nick paused for a moment, “but there’s an old lady who managed to survive somehow; gal’s name is Eddy something. She ended up living in an abandoned boat when her neighbor decided to use fire to chase away the nutcases and burned down everything in the process. And we found two on the beach. The Winchesters and Spera managed to keep a woman and a little girl alive and stashed them in a cave before heading out to meet us.”

“That’s three more than I expected,” Joe admitted. “Maybe you’ll be lucky and find more by tonight.”

“Found one actually, right before we left.”

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked when he saw the look of pure revulsion on his friend’s face.

“The son of a bitch was a survivor from the ferry.”

“Lucky son of a bitch.”

“You could say that again, but not for long if I can help it.”

“Why? What happened?”

“From what I’ve heard the survivors split up right after swimming out of that hellhole,” Nick explained, “and went their separate ways. The bastard stumbled upon two that night; a couple who managed to scrounge up some food and camping gear.

“He killed them for it.”

Joe’s eyes widened considerably. “What?”

“Slit their throats while they slept,” Nick said. “He’d dump their bodies in a ravine nearby. They were young: the man was probably a college kid. The woman still had her driver’s license on her - name was Jenna Bennett. The boy will probably be identified by tonight.”

“And the fucker’s name?”

“Peter Manns; CFO to some big tech company in Bellevue. Sometimes I wonder if those kinds of jobs attract psychopaths like him.”’

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Joe’s phone politely buzzed, putting an end to their talk. “Give me a call before you go. I’ve got the medical supplies you’ve been asking for.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Before he left the complex Nick went to the makeshift morgue in the back. Spera’s body was quarantined but the major felt it was his duty to say goodbye to the soldier who might just be responsible for stopping a world-ending plague.

He found another officer already presiding over the airtight coffin. “Sergeant?”

The man turned around. “Sir.”

“You’re Sergeant Reid?”

The soldier gave a smart salute. “Yes, sir, I am.”

“Your man did his uniform justice today. So, if his family asks – tell them he was a hero and will be honored as one.”

“Thank you, sir.” He turned to stare at Spera’s coffin. “I guess he won’t be going home.”

“Not like that,” Nick revealed. “Disposal orders already came through.”

“Will the family be getting the ashes?”

“No, but they will be flown to Arlington for the ceremony courtesy of Uncle Sam.”

“That’s an honor.”

“But it’ll never be good enough,” Nick voiced the sergeant’s unspoken thoughts, “no honor can replace their son.”

“No, nothing can replace a child.”

Both men stood in silence and studied the airtight metal casket in which the twenty-year-old mechanic from Boise, Idaho, finally found safety and peace.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.

**San Antonio, Texas  
July, 2012**

Jared watched as the hair stylist put the final touches on Donald Hemingway, currently number two host for _Living Large_ , San Antonio’s most popular morning show.

Jared couldn’t remember being so nervous for an interview, not even when he’d just broken into the entertainment industry and was desperate to make himself noticed.

“Mr. Padalecki, are you ready?” a PA asked, one of a dozen who’d swarmed over him earlier.

“Yes, thanks.”

Jared stood up from the stool and pulled off the makeup bib. He took another glance at the mirror, glad he'd managed to reclaim most of the weight he’d lost. When he was ready to be released back to the world, he found out he had sloughed off nearly twenty pounds. Jared was flabbergasted and had asked the discharge nurse to recheck the number.

He panicked at first, thinking how he was going to gain it all back for work, but when he realized he could never go back to Vancouver, Jared calmed down. And that went a long way for him to get a handle on his body and his physical needs.

The PA led him to the studio, which to his relief, felt comfortable even when it was crammed wall-to-wall with lights and personnel.

“There you are,” Reya Soto, the current chief host, said with a dazzling smile. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’ve been working on television long enough to expect delays,” Jared said, grinning. “Which is why I brought a book.”

Reya’s smile grew. “Smart man.” She looked down at the notes in her hands. “So, are you ready? This is the first interview you’ve given since Seattle.”

“I’m ready, and I’ve been giving interviews, just to doctors.”

“True.” She pointed to a leather armchair. “That’s yours, and it’s long enough so your legs don’t fall asleep.”

“Thanks,” Jared said with genuine gratitude.

They got comfortable and soon Jared found himself looking at the camera behind Soto and its blinking red light which turned green in just few seconds.

“So, Mr. Padalecki, welcome back to San Antonio,” Soto said.

“Glad to be back,” Jared replied. “And I know that sounds like a lie considering it’s dead of July, but I’m being honest here.”

“But do you love San Antonio enough to never go back to Hollywood?”

“That decision was not based on who or where I love or love more,” Jared explained in a more hesitant manner. “It was based solely on what I wanted to do.”

“And acting was no longer an option?”

Jared shook his head. “I need to have certain amount of calm inside my head to act. And after what happened, I just couldn’t find that place. I know it all sounds like foofy crap, but it’s true. I just couldn’t bring myself to return to Hollywood. And it didn’t take long for me realize it was because I didn’t want to.”

“So, you decided to take a break and find out what you wanted to do next,” Soto prompted. “Which is perfectly understandable.”

“Yes, I came back home, which was exactly where I needed to be by the way,” Jared said. “And few months afterwards, I decided to start a business.”

“A restaurant,” Soto prompted. “Which isn’t so novel an idea.”

“No, not at all. My love for food is very well known. So, my desire to open one wasn’t at all a surprise to anyone who knows me.”

“But your desire to be a restaurateur and not an actor was.”

“Yeah, that was a shocker.”

“And the divorce?”

Jared couldn’t stop himself from wincing a little. “That wasn’t much of a surprise. Especially for Gen – you see – she knows me very well. And when I was discharged from the hospital … the man she married didn’t exist anymore.”

“Did you know that?”

Jared shook his head. “No, the truth is Gen realized it first. It was I who refused to see what had happened to us. I put up one hell of a fight, but there wasn’t a battle to begin with. You can’t look at a relationship that way and expect to keep it healthy and … clean.”

“Clean?” Soto echoed.

“Yeah, clean,” Jared repeated. “Relationships are messy and people are messier. We bring with us certain amount of baggage, and the people we marry … well, unless we’ve completely bamboozled them, they know what we bring to the table.”

“So, after Seattle, you brought something else to the marriage: something she couldn’t handle?”

“No, something _I_ couldn’t handle,” Jared corrected gently. “And since I couldn’t deal with it or even voice it, how could Gen or anybody else deal with it?”

“What happened after that?”

“The divorce went through quickly, mercifully, and I drifted a bit more afterwards … but then the restaurant idea came around, and once I latched on that – I found my footing.”

“We all know better than to ask what happened during your stay with the military, but is there _anything_ you can tell us?”

“They had really good food and a great gym.” Jared sat back and said, “People get this _Dr. Strangelove_ notion, but the truth is their lives are routine. And most of it is completely recognizable since their jobs resemble ours a great deal.”

“But, you must admit, the _Strangelove_ notion isn’t without merit.”

Jared shook his head. “No, it isn’t. But what else could the government do? Herd us into camps? Then sit back and watch what happens?”`

“Were you roomed with other patients? Or did they try to separate you as much as possible?”

“I had three roommates. The facilities weren’t big enough to give us all private rooms. Besides, it was better for all of us to have company. If we sat alone, we would’ve thought too much, and that’s never good.”

“Solitary confinement?”

Jared nodded. “It could feel like prison and I know for a fact there were others who didn’t handle it well. Not that I could blame them.”

“How did you manage?”

“I was damn tired,” Jared answered. “And hungry. I was also wounded so I didn’t get much of what was happening until weeks afterwards. By then most of the medical stuff was done, and they were more focused on helping me with my rehab.”

“Do you know how you were immune to the virus?”

Jared looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know how some people never catch the flu? How they sometimes go through life with barely a sneeze?”

“Too familiar, my brother’s one of those.”

“And that’s what I think happened,” Jared leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s just a pet theory of mine but this thing, whatever it was, had to behave like any other virus. It was probably one of the most destructive ones in human history, but in the end … it was a virus. And some people just had natural immunity.

“Whether the bas… its creator knew it or not, I don’t know. But I’d bet a week’s worth of paycheck that he didn’t.”

“Speaking of the man responsible for this tragedy, what is your personal opinion of Dr. Compton? Especially since you’ve actually stayed in his home for a while.”

“I am in no way competent enough to give a psychological viewpoint of what or who he was. I don’t know if anyone can.”

“But in your personal opinion?” Soto needled.

“I think he was arrogant beyond measure,” Jared answered promptly. “And if I met him today I’d probably beat him senseless for what he did not just to myself but to everyone who fell victim to his insane plans.”

“I don’t think you’re alone in feeling that.”

“No, and isn’t that a tragedy?” Jared’s face softened for a moment. “But I am also amazed by how some people reacted. I mean bravery beyond belief, making sacrifices no human being is expected to make. And for every one story reported – there were probably dozens that never made the papers.”

“You know of one?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure if the family wants it publicized so I don’t want to speak about it.”

“Understood. So how are you doing?”

“Doing a little better every day which is all I can ask for, honestly.”

“And your friend? Jensen?”

“He’s gone home and into hibernation,” Jared answered. “The dude needs more sleep than I do. And he deserves the rest.”

“So it wouldn’t surprise you to know he declined to be interviewed?”

Jared shook his head slowly but firmly. “No. All Jensen wanted was to catch some sun and rest. Also, eat. I know I was dreaming about food the way soldiers would about women.”

Soto threw back her head and laughed.

Jared’s grin returned and with it confidence. “Hey, I love food. And you know that!”

“I do.” Soto looked piercingly at her interviewee even as her smile remained genial. “So, about Jensen?”

“He needed some time off and so did I. It’s what we both wanted. And we need to process everything, you know?”

“That is a lot to process.”

“It’s … it’s almost as harrowing as what had happened. Because if you want to come to terms with what happened to you and what you did to survive - you have to think about it. And the last thing you want to do is just that: to _think_ about it.”

“But you must, to a degree.”

“Yeah, there is no choice there: not if you want to sleep through the night.” Jared sat back and blew out a deep sigh. “I didn’t do that very well, if you want to know.”

“What happened? Or didn’t happen?”

“First, I ate my body weight. Then, I worked out like a fiend. Four hours a day and that’s seven days a week. I practically owned the gym. I’m so grateful everybody else at the compound was so patient with me. They let me do my reps and have my time on the treadmill, and nobody bothered me once.

“For my downtime I plowed through all the books available to us. We’re talking fiction, nonfiction, and even technical manuals. I learned how to wire a house, work on cars: you name it I read it.”

“And that wasn’t enough?”

Jared shook his head. “No, when it comes to the bad stuff there’s never enough things to do to stop you from thinking about what could have been.”

“You’re talking about the fact that you were the one who suggested visiting Seattle?”

Jared paled visibly. “Yeah, that. I mean … I just wanted to make Jensen happy and the next thing I know we’re in an episode of _Supernatural_ with real, lethal consequences.

“The entire time I was kicking myself for putting us in this situation but Jensen? Never pointed a finger, not once. He just took charge and…”

“Became Dean Winchester?”

Jared blinked furiously, refusing to shed tears. “Yeah, kind of,” he said hoarsely. “He was the big brother – the larger-than-life guy who never thought of himself as a hero and because that was exactly what he was.

“The truth is I had a lot to process but it was just a drop compared to what Jensen had to deal with. You see, I was in a bit of a fog half the time and the other half: well, I was scared out of my mind. But Jensen? His feet never left earth. He knew from the get-go what to do, what needed to be done, and what we could _actually_ do.”

“Could you elaborate on that please?”

“As scared as I was, I wanted to do a lot. But there was no way we could’ve done everything I wanted and come out alive. So, Jensen parsed out everything and figured what we could do for ourselves and for others.

“That, more than anything, was how we got out alive. And how we succeeded in bringing the antidote to the right people.”

“What happened when you did find the antidote? Or what you believed at that time was the cure?”

“I was so terrified I could’ve emptied out my bladder right then and there.”

“But after everything you’ve been…”

“Imagine the responsibility of finding the cure and trying to make sure it got to the right people before it was too late.”

Soto’s demeanor immediately turned somber. “I see.”

“Not an easy task,” Jared said with a huff. “But once we had it: we had it. There was nothing left to discuss. We had find some way to get it off Santos.”

“Without being killed by roving bands of infected people or the military for that matter.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much the situation.”

“Are you surprised that you succeeded?”

“Completely shocked, but so damn glad.”

“You and just about the rest of the world.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Jared said and slapped his knees. “And that went a long way in helping me deal with the aftermath.”

“Still…”

“Yeah, still. I was lucky on a scale I can’t even comprehend now. I still am damn lucky. I have great friends and family, and they ran through more than their share of hoops to make sure I was going to recover and recover fully.”

If Soto noticed how neatly he sidestepped the issue, she didn’t comment on it. “Is it true you still have to get weekly exams?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, it’s a pain in the butt, both figuratively and literally, but what can you do?”

“Do you know what they do with the results?”

“I figure they keep tabs on everyone who was discharged,” Jared answered. “CDC has to have a database that keeps track of the virus and what it did to us.”

“And you don’t feel violated?”

“Not at all. Not even a drop.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because I’ve seen firsthand what this virus does to people, to families … to an entire city. Hell, to the military who must have seen combat action before Seattle. This is something new to all of us: completely uncharted territory.”

“Do you think there will be further action?”

“To us, the survivors?” Jared paused for a moment and thought. He began hesitantly, “I can’t say for sure but the logistics on that would have to be pretty much herculean. There were more than ten thousand patients and to control that number of people after being released? I can’t see how that’s possible.”

“That makes sense,” Soto agreed. “How do you feel now?”

“How do I feel?” Jared echoed, looking surprised. “Um, I guess fine most of the time. I have bad days, but I knew that would happen. I guess I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often.”

“Maybe it has something to do with your sunny disposition.”

“Maybe,” Jared said, grinning widely. “I like to think it’s being back to Texas. You know, big sky, big room, big portions.”

“Again with the food!”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was obsessed with food.”

“I believe you. And that’s all the time we have. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Jared Padalecki, ex-thespian and current owner and creator of _Staton_ , which is scheduled to open by the end of September.” Without warning, she shook Jared’s hand. “Thank you for joining us today.”

“Thanks for having me here.”

* * *

  
**September, 2012**

Jared looked over the balcony, keenly studying the throng currently gathered for pre-dinner specials. The waitstaff was kept on their toes, convincing Jared to hire more. If they were this strained during happy hours, they would definitely be swamped for the weekend dinner scene.

When the bar got crowded enough he was tempted to go down, walk among the clientele, shake hands, and make small talk. But Jared refrained at the last moment. They might not react so well to his presence. His fame was attractive, but Jared’s near-brush with death might turn off some customers who would otherwise continuously patronize the restaurant.

A gentle tap on his shoulder made Jared turn. “Hey, Ceci, how are you?”

The manager gave a huff of breath. “We are going to be in the bush and it’s only Tuesday!”

“We’re definitely hiring more staff,” Jared said. “I’m safe in assuming you still have the interview files?”

“Yep,” Ceci said. “And I’ve already drawn up a list of people I want to call back.”

“Good, do it tonight, when you get a breather.” Jared paused for a moment and corrected himself. “Or tomorrow morning if it gets too late.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s never too late to get a call about a job,” Ceci said. She looked down at the crowd. “I think hiring Jason as executive chef was the best idea you’ve had.”

Jared gave her an I-told-you-so look but gentled it with a crooked grin. “He’s amazing, right?”

“A New Yorker in San Antonio and he’s rocking the scene,” Ceci said, pointing at a table whose plates were being emptied at lightspeed. “And the vegetarian dishes are a phenomenal hit.”

Jared gave a low whistle of relief. “I have to admit I was worried about that. A vegetarian-friendly restaurant in the heart of meat country?”

“It was a big risk,” Ceci agreed, “but you were right. And the fish plates are being ordered at a dancing rate too.”

“Do you think this is going to work out? Or is it just a fad?”

Ceci leaned against the balcony and crossed her arms in a thoughtful pose. “When I first heard about _Staton_ I thought, ‘another B-list celebrity trying to make it like J-Lo’. But then I read about what happened to you in Seattle, and what you wanted to build made perfect sense.”

Jared rubbed his face. “You know, I never googled myself after Utah. I just didn’t have the stomach.”

“Don’t worry,” Ceci said. “What I’ve read is pretty flattering. I honestly can’t believe you survived that hell. Or that you’re so … well…”

“Sane? Not a raving lunatic?” Jared supplied.

Ceci blushed. “You know what I mean. After all you’ve been through – you could’ve bought a small island to live out the rest of your days and nobody would’ve questioned why.”

“Do you really want to know what kept me up at night? I mean after we were rescued?”

Ceci leaned forward. “What?”

“That one guy – just one fucked up bastard – killed nearly fifteen thousand people. And he did it because he believed in God and that _God_ told him to do it.”

“The Fourth Horseman,” Ceci said. “I couldn’t believe the media gave that bastard a nickname. My God, talk about bending over and taking it.”

Jared chuckled. “What would you have called him?”

“Fucker, or maybe dickless son of a bitch,” Ceci said promptly. “What he created was scary, but the guy? He was a coward, pure and simple.”

“That he was,” Jared said. But then he remembered the shack. “He was also crazy to a degree I can’t even begin to fathom.”

“Yeah, but he knew what he was doing. He thought he was doing the right thing, but let’s face it: he was playing judge, jury, and executioner. And something tells me he got off on that last part.”

“Yeah, I guess he did.”

Ceci reached over and squeezed his arm. “Honey, listen to me, I’ve grown up in a town full of such fruitcakes. And they might scream and shout how humble they are, but inside? They love to judge. And if they had power over life and death – fifteen thousand deaths would not be considered an outrageous count.”

“Do you know some churches are actually claiming Compton was a prophet?”

Ceci made a rude noise. “I swear, there’s never a shortage of stupid people!”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Jared nudged Ceci. “Do you want to go downstairs? Schmooze with the common folks?”

Ceci placed a hand on her chest and fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. “And ruin my Jimmy Choos?”

“Yeah, I know. But we gods do have to make such sacrifices when necessary.”

Ceci cracked a wide smile. “C’mon, let’s go downstairs and see what the fun people are doing.”

“It’ll give us a chance to scope out what’s selling and what’s not,” Jared added.

Ceci frowned. “Do we need to do that? It’s only happy hour.”

“It’s always good to know what the clients like and don’t like. And Jason would love us if we came to him with a list.”

Ceci rolled her eyes. “Him and his lists. But you’re right: he’ll love us if we do make one.”

With that the two wound their way down the stairs. And though they hadn’t planned it, their entrance to the main dining room was dramatic enough to catch most of the diners’ attention. So, it was easy for them to move about, asking questions and fielding ones. To Jared’s quiet gratitude, Ceci never left his side, radiating happiness while resting her hand on his forearm like an old fashioned belle.

And that went a long way into people being relaxed enough around Jared, even when he was within their comfort zone.

They didn’t have any chance to go upstairs when the dinner crowd began filtering in.

This became routine, and as the days passed into weeks Jared became more and more comfortable being up in front with the public. His ease was made greater by the fact that the restaurant was a solid success. The reviews were uniformly stellar, and though Jared’s fame was the initial draw, it was Jason’s talents that kept the diners coming back for more.

This gave Jared hope that Jensen, wherever he was, would read about _Staton_ and give him an excuse to make contact.

His prayer was answered Christmas week. He was flipping through a stack of mail at the restaurant when he saw the familiar scrawl. For a moment his heart paced so quickly he actually felt pain. With stiff, uncooperative fingers, Jared opened the envelope.

There was a two-page letter and a bland business card.

> Jared,
> 
> I just read about _Staton_. I’m proud of you, and before you ask: it’s going to be a success. I know it. So, take it easy.
> 
> Dr. Weston told me you wanted to talk to me, so it wasn’t the military that kept me from answering your e-mails. You probably know this, but I was released a month before you. As far as I could figure, either my immune system was very impressive or they found something that told them I wasn’t a threat to the general population.
> 
> They were wrong.
> 
> I came back to Dallas, vegged for a while, and then I tried to eat a bullet. I would’ve succeeded if Dad hadn’t come home early. For an old guy he’s pretty fucking strong. After taking the gun out of my hand, he forced me to have a talk with him.
> 
> I couldn’t even really begin to outline why I wanted to kill myself but I want you to know it had nothing to do with you.
> 
> It was because I couldn’t process what happened in Seattle. You see, I shut down completely when things went crazy then. It was my way of dealing with it, but after we were rescued, I couldn’t find my way out of the dark. And then I didn’t want to. This happened while I was still quarantined, and by the time I was released I was so tired of everything I set my mind to ending it.
> 
> Suicide is not a comforting thought but it is relaxing, as odd as that sounds. Once you make up your mind to kill yourself things get lighter. Not easier mind you, but you suddenly find yourself able to manage things because you just don’t give a fuck.
> 
> So, I wasn’t crying out for help when I put the barrel in my mouth: I was ready to go. But my Dad snapped me out of my fugue and forced me to see someone.
> 
> You think Texas is hot? Try Arizona desert during summertime.
> 
> I think I sweated out my suicidal tendencies more than anything. Things didn’t get easier for a long time after that. I didn’t expect it to either. You see just waking up from a nightmare isn’t enough: you have to crawl out of your bed, get dressed, and then step outside. I think that last part was the hardest because I didn’t know what was on the other side of the door and it terrified me.
> 
> But I did. I had to.
> 
> ‘What choice do I have?’ was what got me through the hell that was Santos. So, I decided to use that mantra again.
> 
> It didn’t work, which sucked. But then I started volunteering at a ranch near the center. I like horses, always did. Not that I had a career goal of being a cowboy but working with them always made me feel good. And somewhere along the line things got better. Maybe it was the rhythm of the days or just the fact that I didn’t have to talk to people so much, but whatever the reason, I started to look forward to waking up and getting out of the house.
> 
> I got job offers from all over Hollywood but like you, I had no desire to go back. It was amazing while it lasted, but there were downsides to that life and you know all about that so I won’t get into it.
> 
> I was released on my own recognizance four months after I went in, but I stayed around the ranch. Melissa Hopkins, the owner, was a godsend. She let me putz around and work with her horses. She also fed me and gave me a roof over my head for which I’ll forever be grateful. It was also Melissa who answered the question that nearly drove me to my grave.
> 
> "How many monstrous things do you have to do before you become a monster?" I kept asking myself because I killed people. Yes, they were bugshit crazy but they were still human beings.
> 
> She told me bluntly, "One. The trick is not to remain a monster by doing it again."
> 
> I don't know why but what she said made sense. I got better and better, and even though it was slow going I finally stopped thinking about killing myself and started thinking about the future.
> 
> I bought the ranch and Melissa went to the one she owns in Idaho. She’s got three believe it or not. I’d like to think I got the cream of the crop!
> 
> So, now I got a ranch in Arizona and about a billion more freckles. I also lost even more weight and gained about three inches of calluses on my hands and feet.
> 
> Life is slow here but that’s okay. It’s not beautiful in the sense we’re used to but my God, it is beautiful. And on most days I can find peace, peace with what happened back then, but most importantly with what I did.
> 
> And that’s good, right?
> 
> Yours,  
>  Jensen
> 
> PS: I watched that television interview you gave. You ~~dumb fuck~~ , you were never a burden. And it was your brain that got us through in one piece, remember?

  
Jared looked down at the business card and read the address and the number. The name of the ranch made him smile.

_Winchester? What the hell? Couldn’t he come up with something more original?_

He knew other people would read the letter as a kiss-off, but Jared knew better. Without saying much Jensen had shown everything that had happened after they separated. And for a private person to do so was a benediction because it meant Jensen trusted Jared with his most intimate emotions.

Also, there was the open invitation. This meant Jensen was giving him the choice: telling Jared he would wait.

_Means we’ve got time and neither of us are going anywhere. Not after everything that had happened between us. Against us. For us._

Jared thumbed his cell, tempted to call. In the end, he desisted.

_We have to find our peace separately. Then we can find it together._

Jared programmed Jensen’s phone number into his cell before tucking the business card into his wallet.

“Hey there, handsome,” Ceci said as she walked up to him. She saw the radiant smile on his face and asked, “Got good news?”

“Yeah, the best,” Jared answered. He didn’t say anything else and Ceci knew well enough not to pry.

**The End**


End file.
